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HYMNS 



OF 



FAITH AND HOPE. 



B Y 



HORATIUS BONAR, D.D., 

K B L 8 O, 
ATTTHOK OF TUB " KIGHT OF WEEl'IKQ," "THE HOKNIJJQ OF JOV," KTa 



NEW YORK: 

ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 

N-*. 530 BROADWAY. 

1864. 









Gift 
Mrs. Hennen Jennings 
April 26, 19^ 






0nt enl s. 



DIVINE ORDER 9 

LEFT BEHIND 11 

THE MEETING- PLACE 13 

A STRANGER HERE 16 

OCEAN TEACHINGS 20 

NO MORE SEA 22 

THE CHANGE 24 

THE CLOUDLESS 26 

THE HOME SICKNESS 28 

THE LAND OP LIGHT 31 

THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN 33 

ADVENT 39 

DAWN 41 

RETURN UNTO THY REST . 43 

THE MORNING STAR 46 

THINGS HOPED FOR 4*7 

THROUGH DEATH TO LIFE 50 

HORA NOVISSIMA 53 

THE NIGHT COMETH 56 

THE DAY AFTER ARMAGEDDON 58 

REST YONDER 63 

HOW LONG ! 64 

A LITTLE WHILE 66 

NOT VERY FAR 69 

THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL 71 



n CONTENTS. 

PAOV 

OUR ONE LIFE 74 

THE CONSOLATION V6 

THE REAL TS 

NOT HERE , 80 

NOT NOW 81 

light's teachings 82 

earth's beauty 86 

the night and the MORNING 87 

HOPE OF DAY 88 

DAY-SPRING 91 

DUST TO DUST 94 

ARISE AND DEPART 97 

THE KINGDOM 100 

NEWLY FALLEN ASLEEP 102 

THE FLESH RESTING IN HOPE 107 

REST 110 

A pilgrim's SONG 112 

QUIS SEPARABIT 115 

FAR BETTER 117 

WANDERING DOWN 119 

THE ROD 122 

STRENGTH BY THE WAY 127 

THE FEAST 128 

THE STRANGER SEA-BIRD 129 

HOPE DEFERRED 132 

THE BLANK 135 

THE SLEEP OF THE BELOVED 136 

THE LITTLE FLOCK , . . 138 

THE NAME OF NAMES 141 

MINE AND THINE 144 

ABIDE IN HIM 146 

THE BELOVED SON 147 

THE SIN-BEARER , 143 



CONTENTS. Vll 

PAOa 

THE SUBSTITUTE 152 

LOST BUT FOUND 154 

THE WORD MADE FLESH ■ 156 

THE DAEKNESS AND THE LIGHT 158 

THE YOICE FROM GALILEE 159 

A BETHLEHEM HYMN 160 

THIS DO IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME 162 

CHRIST OUR PEACE 164 

god's ISRAEL 166 

the shadow of the cross 167 

child's prater. 168 

child's MORNING HYMN 1 69 

TO M. L. B lYl 

the two eras of the land 173 

martyr's hymn 176 

SURSUM CORDA 178 

THE REST-DAY 179 

THE INNER CALM 181 

THE DISBURDENING 183 

COMPANIONSHIP 185 

THE HEAVENLY SOWING 186 

DISAPPOINTMENT 188 

THE TIME TO MEET 190 

GONE BEFORE 192 

THE ELDER BROTHER. 194 

LIFE FROM THE DEAD 196 

EVER NEAR 197 

IT IS FINISHED 198 

PRESS ON 200 

LAUS DEO 202 

CREATION 203 

DESERT LILIES 207 

SUMMER GLADNESS 210 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

PAQB 

THE FRIEND . . 212 

THE BLANK 214 

CHOOSE WELL 216 

'twas I THAT DID IT 21 (T 

THE USEFUL LIFE 219 

PASSING THROUGH 221 

FORWARD 223 

NOTHING BETWEEN 226 

FOLLOW THOU ME 228 

VANITY 230 

MAOHPELAH 232 

OLD WORDS 234 

THE OLD JEW ON MOUNT MORIAH 237 

THE SHEPHERDS' PLAIN 240 

COME, LORD 246 

THY WAY, NOT MINE 249 

AIjLELUIA 251 

LIVE 253 

THE MARTYR'S GRAVE 255 

ALL WELL 258 

LINKS 259 

THE RESURRECTION OF THE JUST 262 

THE PRAYER 263 

THE OITT, . 265 



HYMNS OF FAITH AND HOPE. 



- DIVINE ORDER. 

'Tis first the true and then the beautiful, 
Not first the beautiful and then the true ; 

First the wild moor, with rock and reed and pool, 
Then the gay garden, rich in scent and hue. 

"lis first the good and then the beautiful, — 
Not first the beautiful and then the good ; 

First the rough seed, sown in the rougher soil, 
Then the flower-blossom, or the branching wood. 

Not first the glad and then the sorrowful, — 
But first the sorrowful, and then the glad ; 

Tears for a day, — for earth of tears is full, 
Then we forget that we were ever sad. 



10 DIVINE ORDER. 

Not first the bright, and after that the dark, — 
But first the dark, and after that the bright ; 

First the thick cloud, and then the rainbow's arc, 
First the dark grave, then resurrection-light. 

'Tis first the night, — stern night of storm and war, — 
Long nights of heavy clouds and veiled skies ; 

Then the far sparkle of the Morning-star, 
That bids the saints awake and dawn arise. 



LEFT BEHIND. 

Look at this starbeam ! From its place oi birth, 
It has come down to greet us here below ; 

Now it alights unwearied on this earth, 

Nor storm nor night have quenched its heavenly 
glow. 

Unbent before the winter's rugged blast, 
Unsoiled by this sad planet's tainted air, 

It sparkles out from yon unmeasured vast, 
Bright 'mid the brightest, 'mid the fairest fair. 

Undimmed it reaches me ; but yet alone : 

The thousand gay companions that took wing 

AJong with it have perished one by ou%, 
Scattered o'er space like blossoms of the spring. 

Some to yon nearer orbs have sped then* course, 
Yon city's smoke has quenched a thousand more ; 

Myriads in yon dark cloud have spent their force ; 
A few stray gleams are all that reach our shore. 



12 LEFT BEHIND. 

And with us ! How maDy, who began 

Life's race with us, are dropping by the way ; 

Losing themselves in darkness one by one, 
From the glad goal departing wide astray ! 

When we shall reach the kingdom of the blest, 
How few who started with us shall we find 

Arriving or arrived, for glorious rest ! 

How many shall we mourn as left behind !* 

"Pauci laeta arva tenemus." — Virgil^ JEneid, VI. 



I 



THE MEETING-PLACE. 

Where the faded flower shall freshen,— 

Freshen never mcfi"e to fade ; 
Where the shaded sky shall brighten, — 

Brighten never more to shade : 
Where the sun-blaze never scorches ; 

Where the star-beams cease to chill ; 
Where no tempest stirs the echoes 

Of the wood, or wave, or hill : 
Where the morn shall wake in gladness, 

And the moon the joy prolong, 
Where the daylight dies in fragrance, 

'Mid the burst of holy song : 

Brother, we shall meet and rest 
'Mid the holy and the blest ! 

Where no shadow shall bewilder, 
Where life's vain parade is o'er, 

Where the sleep of sin is broken, 
And the dreamer dreams no more : 



14 THE MEETING-PLACE. 

Wliere the bond is never severed ; — 

Partings, claspings, sob and moan, 
Midnight waking, twilight weeping, 

Heavy noontide, — all are done : 
Where the child has found its mother, 

Where the mother finds the child, 
Where dear families are gathered, 

That were scattered on the wild : 
Brother, we shall meet and rest 
'Mid the holy and the blest ! 

Where the hidden wound is healed, 

Where tlie blighted light re-blooms, 
Where the smitten heart the freshness 

Of its buoyant youth resumes : 
Where the love that here we lavish 

On the withering leaves of time, 
Shall have fadeless flowers to fix on 

In an ever spring bright clime : 
Wliere we find the joy of loving, 

As we never loved before, — 
Loving on, unchilled, unhindered, 

Lovino: once and evermore : 

Brother, we shall meet and rest, 
*Mid the holy and the blest ! 



THE MEETING-PLACE. 16 

Where a blasted world shall brighten 

Underneath a bluer sphere, 
And a softer, gentler sunshine 

Shed its healing splendor here : 
Where earth's barren vales shall blossom, 

Putting on their robe of green, 
And a purer, fairer Eden 

Be where only wastes have been : 
Where a King in kingly glory, 

Such as earth has never known, 
Shall assume the righteous sceptre, 

Claim and wear the holy crown : • 
Brother, we shall meet and rest, 
*Mid the holy and the blest. 



A STRANGER HERE. 

I MISS the dear paternal dwelling, 

Which mem'ry, still undimmed, recals, 

A thousand early stories telling ; 
I miss the venerable walls. ^ 

I miss the chamber of my childhood, 
I miss the shade of boyhood's tree, — 

The glen, the path, the cliff, the wild-wood, 
The music of the well-known sea. 

T miss the ivied haunt of moonlight, 
I miss the forest and the stream, 

I miss the fragrant grove of noonlight, 
I miss our mountain's sunset gleam. 

I miss the green slope, where, reposing, 
I m«sed upon the near and far, 

Marked, one by one, each floweret closing, 
Watched, one by one, each opening star 



lA, 



A STRANGER HERE. 17 

I miss the well-remembered faces, 
The voices, forms, of fresher days ; 

Time ploughs not up these deep-drawn traces, 
These lines no ages can erase. 

I miss them all, for, unforgetting, 

' My spirit o'er the past still strays, 
And, much its wasted years regretting, 
It treads again these shaded ways. 

I mourn not that each early token 

Is now to me a faded flower. 
Nor that the magic snare is broken 

That held me with its mystic power. 

I murmur not that now a stranger 

I pass along the smiling earth ; 
I know the snare, I dread the danger, 

I hate the haunts, I shun the mirth. 

My hopes are passing upward, onward. 

And with my hopes my heart has gone ; 

My eye is turning skyward, sunward. 

Where glory brightens round yon throne. 
2* 



18 A STRANGER HERE, 

My spirit seeks its dwelling yonder; 

And fate fore-dates the joyful day 
When these old skies shall cease to sunder 

The one dear love-linked family. 

Well-pleased I find years rolling o'er me, 
And hear each day-time's measured tread ; 

Far fewer clouds now stretch before me, 
Behind me is the darkness spread. 

And summer's suns are swiftly setting, 
And life moves downward in their train, 

And autumn dews are fondly wetting 
The faded cheek of earth in vain. 

December moons are coldly waning, 
And life w*th them is on the wane ; 

Storm-laden skies with sad complaining, 
Bend blackly o'er the unsmiling mair*. 

My future from my past unlinking, 
Each dying year untwines the spell ; 

The visible is swiftly sinking. 
Uprises the invisible. 



A STRANGER HERE. 19 

To light, unchanging, and eternal. 

From mists that sadden this bleak waste, 

To scenes that smile for ever vernal. 
From winter's blackening leaf I haste. 

Earth, what a son'ow lies before thee, 
Kone like it in the shadowy past ; — 

The sharpest throe that ever tore thee. 
Even tho' the briefest and the last ! 

I see the fair moon veil her lustre, 

I see the sackcloth of the sun ; 
The shrouding of each starry cluster. 

The threefold woe of earth begun. 

I see the shadows of its suuvset ; 

And wrapped in these the Avenger's form , 
I see the Ai'mageddon-onset ; 

But I shall be above the storm. 

There comes the moaning and the sighing, 
There comes the hot tear's heavy fall, 

The thousand agonies of dying ; — 
But I shall be beyond them all. 



OCEAN TEACHINGS. 

" This groat and wide sea." — Psalm civ. 25. 

That rising storm ! It has awakened me ; 

My slumbering spirit starts to life anew ; 
That blinding spray-drift, how it falls upon me, 

As on the weary flower the freshening dew. 

That rugged rock-fringe that girds in the ocean, 
And calls the foam from its translucent blue. 

It seems to pour strange strength into my spirit, — 
Strength for endurance, strength for conflict too. 

And these bright ocean-birds, these billow-rangers, 
The snowy-breasted, — each a winged wave — 

They tell me how to joy in storm and dangers, 
When surges whiten, or when whirlwinds rave. 

And these green-stretching fields, these peaceful hol- 
lows, 
That hear the tempest, but take no alarm. 



OCEAN TEACHINGS. 21 

Has not their placid verdure sweetly taught me 
The peace within when all without is storm ? 

And thou keen sun-flash, through the cloud-wreath 
bursting, 

Silvering the sea, the sward, the rock, the foam. 
What light within me has thy pure gleam kindled ? 

'Tis from the land of light that thou art come. 

And of the time how blithely art thou telling, 

When cloud and change and tempest shall take 
wing ; 

Each beam of thine prophetic of the glory, 

Creation's daybreak, earth's long-promised spring. 

Even thus it is, my God me daily teacheth 
Sweet knowledge out of all I hear and see ; 

Each object has a heavenly voice within it, 
Each scene, however troubled, speaks to me. 

For all upon this earth is broken beauty, 

Yet out of all what strange, deep lessons rise ? 

Each hour is giving out its heaven-sent wisdom, 
A message from the sea, the shore, the skies. 



NO MORE SEA. 

Kal Ti ddlaacn ovk hriv in. — (Rsy. xxL 1.) 

Summer Ocean, idly washing 

This grey rock on which I lean ; 
Summer Ocean, broadly fljishing 

With thy hues of gold and green; 
Gently swelling, wildly dashing 

O'er yon island-studded scene ; 
Summer Ocean, how I'll miss thee, — 

Miss the thunder of thy roar. 
Miss the music of thy ripple, 

Miss thy sorrow-soothiug sJiore,- 
Summer Ocean, how I' 11 miss thee. 

When " the sea shall be no more." 
Summer Ocean, how I '11 miss thee, 

As along thy strand I range ; 
Or as here I sit and watch thee 

In thy moods of endless change — 



NO MORE SEA. 2S-. 

Miithful moods of morning gladness, 
Musing moods of sunset sadness ; 
When tlie dying winds caress thee, 
And the sinking sunbeams kiss thee, 
And the crimson cloudlets press thee, 
And all nature seems to bless thee !— 

Summer Ocean, how I '11 miss thee, — 
Miss the wonders of thy shore. 

Miss the magic of thy grandeur, • 

When " the sea shall be no more I" 

And yet sometimes in my musings, 

When I think of what shall be ; 
In the day of earth's new glory. 

Still I seem to roam by thee. 
As if all had not departed, 

But the glory lingered still; 
As if that which made thee lovely, 

Had remained unchangeable. 
Only that which marred thy beauty,—- 

Only that had passed away, 
Sullen wilds of Ocean-moorland, 

Bloated features of decay. 
Only that dark waste of waters, 



24 NO MORE SEA. 

Line ne' er fathomed, eye ne *er scanued. 
Only that shall shrink and vanish, 

Yielding back the imprisoned land. 
.Yielding back earth's fertile hollows. 

Long submerged and hidden plains ; 
Giving up a thousand valleys. 

Of the ancient world's domains. 
Leaving still bright azure ranges, 
• Winding round this rocky tower ; 
Leaving still yon gem-bright island, 

Sparkling like an ocean-flower. 
Leaving still some placid stretches, 

Where the sunbeams bathe at noon, 
Leaving still some lake-like reaches, 

MiiTors for the silver moon. 
Only all of gloom and horror, 

Idle wastes of endless brine, 
Haunts of darkness, storm, and danger, 

These shall be no longer thine. 
Backward ebbing, wave and ripple, 

Wondrous scenes shall then disclose 
And, like earth's, the wastes of ocean 

Then shall blossom as the rose. 



THE CHANGE. 

I LOVE yon pale blue sky ; it is the floor 
Of that glad home where I shall shortly be ; 

A home from which I shall go out no more ; 
From toil and grief and vanity set free. 

I gaze upon yon everlasting arch, 

Up which the bright stars wander, as they shine ; 
And as I mai'k them in their nightly march, 

I think how soon that journey shall be mine ! 

Yon silver drift of silent cloud, far up 

In the still heaven — through you my pathway lies ; 
Yon rugged mountain-peak — how soon your top 

Shall I behold beneath me, as I rise ! 

Not many more of life's slow-pacing hours, 
Shaded with sorrow's melancholy hue ; — 
Oh, what a glad ascending shall be ours, 

Oh, what a pathway up yon starry blue ! 
3 



26 THE CLOUDLESS. 

A jouruey like Elijah's, swift and bright, 
Caught gently upwai'd to an early crown, 

In heaven's own chariot of unblaijing light,* 
With death unta&ted and the grave unknown. 



THE CLOUDLESS. 

No shadows yonder ! 

All light and song ; 
Each day I wonder. 

And say, How long 
Shall time me sunder 

From that deal* throng I 

No weeping yonder I 

All fled away ; 
While here I wander 

Each weary day. 
And sigh as I ponder 

My long, long stay. 

* B£i<f) nvpl wafKpaiir. — Soph. Pbiloct 



THE CLOUDLESS. 27 

Nm partings yonder ! 

Time and space never 
Again shall sunder ; 

Hearts cannot sever ; 
Dearer and fonder 

Hands clasp for ever.* 

None wanting yonder, 

Bought by the Lamb I 
All gathered under 

The evergreen palm ; 
Loud as night's thunder 

Ascends the glad psalm. 

* 'A ijKpvv vefiovrai diuva. — Pindar. Olymp. 



THE HOME SICKNESS. 

" civitas sancta, civitas spociosa, cle longinquo te saluto, 
ad te clamo, te requiro." — Augustine^ De Spir. et Anim. 

And whence this weariness, 

This gathering cloud of gloom ? 
Whence this dull weight of loneliness, 

These greedy cravings for the tomb ? 
These greedier cravings for the hopes that lie 
Beyond the tomb, beyond the things that die ; 
Beyond the smiles and joys that come and go, 
Fevering the spirit with their fitful flow ; 
Beyond the circle where the shadows fall ; 
Within the region where my God is all. 

It is not that I fear 

To breast the storm or wrestle with the wave, 
To swim the torrent or the blast to brave, 
To toil or suffer in this day of strife 
As He may will who gave this struggling life, — ■ 

But I am homesick I 



THE HOME SICKNESS. 29 

ft is not tLat the cross 

Is heavier than this drooping frame can bear, 
Or that I find no kindred heart to share 
The burden, ^Yhich, in these last days of ill, 
Seems to press heavier, sharper, sorer still,— 

But I am homesick ! 

It is not that the snare 

Is laid around for my unwary feet, 
And that a thousand wily tempters greet 
My slippery steps and lead me far astray 
From that safe guidance of the narrow way,— 

But I am homesick ! 

It is not that the path 

Is rough and perilous, beset with foes, • 
From the first step down to its weary close, 
Strewn with the flint, the briar, aud the thorn, 
That wound mv limbs and leave mv raiment torn, 

But I am homesick ! 

It is not that the sky 

Is darkly sad, and the unloving air 
Chills me to fainting ; and the clouds that there 
3* 



30 THE HOME SICKNESS. 

jEano: over me seem sii^iial clouds unfurled, 
Portending wratli to an unready world, — 
But I am homesick ! 

Jt is not that the earth 

Has grown less bright and fair,-r-that these grey 

hills, 
These ever-lapsing, ever-lulling rills, 
And these breeze-haunted woods, that ocean clear, 
Have now become less beautiful, less dear, — 

But I am homesick ! 

Let me, then, weary be ! 

I shiink not, — murmur not; 
Tn all this homelessness I see 

The Church's pilgrim-lot ; 
H^ lot until her absent Loi'd shall come, 
And the lono; liomeless hero, shall fiiid a home. 

Then no more weariness ! 

No gathering cloud of gloom ; 
Then no dull v.-eight of loneliness. 

No greedy cravings for the tomb : 
For death shall then be swallowed up of life, 
And the glad victory shall end the strife 1 



THE LAND OF LIGHT. 

That clime is not like this dull clime of ours ; 

All, all is brightness there ; 
A sweeter influence breathes around its flowers, 

And a far milder air. 
No calm below is like that calm above. 
No region here is like that realm of love ; 
Earth's softest spring ne'er shed so soft a light, 
Earth's brightest summer never shone so bright. 

That sky is not hke this sad sky of ours, 

Tinged with earth's change and care : 
No shadow dims it, and no rain-cloud lowers, — 

No broken sunshine there ! 
One everlasting stretch of azure pours 
Its stainless splendor o'er these sinless shores; 
For there Jehovah shines with heavenly ray. 
There Jesus reigns dispensing endless day. 



82 THK LAND or LIGHT. 

Those dwellers there are not like these of earth, 

No mortal stain they bear ; 
And yet they seem of kindred blood and birth, — 

Whence, and how^came they there? 
Earth was their native soil, from sin and shame, 
Through tribulation they to glory came ; 
Bond-slaves delivered from sin's crushing load, 
Brands plucked from burning by the hand of God. 

Those robes of theirs are not for these below ; 

No angel's half so bright ! 
Whence came that beauty, whence that living glow ? 

Whence came that radiant white ? 
Washed in the blood of the atoning Lamb, 
Fair as the light those robes of theirs became, 
And now, all tears wiped off from every eye, 
They wander where the fi'eshest pastures lie, 
Through all the nightless day of that unfading 

sky I 



THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN, 
On the Great Exhibition, 1851. 

Ha ! yon burst of crystal splendor, 

Sunlight, starlight, blent in one ; 
Starlight set in arctic azure, 

Sunlight from the burning zone ! 
Gold and silver, gems and marble, 
" All.creatiou's jewelry ; 
Eaith's uncovered waste of riches, 

Treasures of the ancient sea. 
Heir of glory. 

What is that to thee and me ? 

Iris and Aurora braided — 
How the woven colors shine ! 

Snow-gleams from an Alpine summit, 
Toich-light from a spar-roofed mine. / 



34 THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN. 

Like Arabia's matcliless palace, 
Child of magic's stiono: decree. 

One vast globe of living sapphire, 
Floor, walls, columns, canopy. 

Heir of glory, 
What is that to thee and me ? 



Forms of beauty, shapes of wonder, 

Trophies of triumphant toil ; 
Never Athens, Rome, Palmyi-a, 

Gazed on such a costly spoil. 
Dazzling the bewildered vision. 

More than princely pomp we see ; 
What the blaze of the Alhambra, 

Dome of emerald, to thee ? 
Heir olglory, 

What is that to thee and me I 



Farthest cities pour their liches, 
Farthest empires muster here, 

Art her jubilee proclaiming 
To the nations far and near. 



TH3 SEEN AND THE TNSEEN'. 95 

From the crowd in wonder gazing, 
Science claims the prostrate knee; 

This her temple, diamond blazi a g, 
Shrine of her idolatry. 

Heir of glory, 
What is that to thee and me ? 



Listen to her tale of wonder. 

Of her plastic, potent spell ; 
'T is a big and braggart story, 

Yet she tells it fair and well. 
She the gifted, gay magician, 

Mistress of earth, air, and sea ; 
This majestic apparition^ 

Offspring of her sorcery- 
Heir of glory, 

What is that to thee and me ? 



What to that for which we Ve waiting 
Is this glittering earthly toy ? 

Heavenly glory, holy splendor, 
Sum of gra^ideur, sum of joy. 



86 THE SEEN AND THE. UNSEEN, 

Kot the gems that time cau tarnisli, 
Not the hues that dim and die, 

Not the glow that cheats t'jc lover, 
Shaded with mortality. 

Heir of glory, 
That shall be for thee and me ! 



Not the light that leaves us darker, 

Nor the gleams that come and go, 
Not the mirth whose end is madness, 

Not the joy whose fi'uit is woe ; 
Not the notes that die at sunset. 

Not the fashion of a day ; 
But the everlasting beauty, 

And the endless melody. 
Heir of glory, 

That shall be for thee and me ! 



City vi the pearl-biight portal ; 

City of the jasper wall ; 
City of the golden pavement ; 

Seat of endless festival. 



THE BEEN AND THE UNLEEK. 

City of Jehovah, Salem, 

City of eternity, 
To thy bridal-hall of gladness, 

From this prison would I flco. 
Heir of glory, 

That shall he for ihev. and me ! 



Ah I with such strange spells around rae, 

Fairest of what earth calls fair, 
How I need thy fairer image. 

To undo the syren snare ? 
Lest the subtle serpent-tempter 

Lure me with his radiant lie ; 
As if sin were sin no longer, 

Life were no more vanity. 
Heir of glory, 

What is that to thee and me ? 



Yes, I need thee, heavenly city, 

My low spirit to upbear ; 
Yes, I need thee — earth's enchantments 

So beguile me with their glare. 



37 



38 THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN. 

Let me see thee, then these fetters 
Break asunder ; I am free ; 

Then this pomp no longer chains me ; 
Faith has won the' victory. 

Heir of glory, 
That shall be for thee and me ! 

Soon where earthly beauty blinds not, 

No excess of brilliance palls, 
Salem, city of the holy, 

We shall be within thy walls ! 
There, beside yon crystal river, 

There, beneath life's wondrous tree, 
There, with nauirht to cloud or sever— 

Ever with the Lamb to be ! 
Heir of glory. 

That shall be for thee and me 1 



ADVENT. 

The Churcli has waited long 

Her absent Lord to see ; 
And Btill in loneliness she waits, 

A friendless stranger she. 
Age after age has gone, 

Sun after sun has set^ 
And still in weeds of widowhood 

She weeps a mourner yet. 

Come, then, Lord Jesus, come I 

Saint after saint on earth 

Has lived, and loved, and died ; 
And as they left us one by one, 

We laid tliem side by side ; 
We laid them down to sleep, 

But not in hope forlorn ; 
We laid them but to ripen there, 

Till the last glorious morn. 

Came, then. Lord Jesus, come I 



40 ADVENT. 

The serpent's brood increase, 

The powers of hell grow bold, 
The conflict thickens, faith is low, 

And love is waxing* cold. 
How long, Lord our God, 

Holy and true, and good, 
Wilt Thou not judge Thy suffering Church, 

Her sighs and tears and blood ? 

Come, then, Lord Jesus, come ! 

We long to hear Thy voice, 

To see Thee face to foce, 
To share Thy crown and glory then. 

As now we share Thy grace. 
Should not the lovinsx bride 

The absent bridegroom mourn ? 
Should she not wear the weeds of giief 

Until her Lord return ? 

Come, then, Lord Jesus, come 

The whole creation groans, 
And waits to hear that voice, 

That shall restore her comeliness, 
And make her wastes rejoice. 



DAWN. 41 

Come, Lord, and wipe away 

The curse, the sin, the stain, 
And make this blighted world of ours 

Thine own fair world again. 

Come, then, Lord Jesus, come ! 



DAWN. 

Light of the better morning, 

Sbine down on me ! 
Sun of the brigliter heaven, 

Bid'darkness flee ! 
Thy warmth impart 
To this dull heart : 
Pour in thy light, 
And let this night 
Be turned to day 
By thy mild ray ! 

Lord Jesus, come ; 
Thou day-star shine ; 

Enhghten now 

This soul of mine ! 
4* 



42 DAWN. 



Streaks of tlie better da\vnin| 

Break on my sight, 
Fringing with silver edges 

These ciouds of night. 
Gems on moru's brow, 
Glow, bn'ghtly glow, 
Foretelling soon 
The ascending noon, 
Wakening this earth 
To second birth, 

ll^Tien He shall come 
To earth again, 

Who comes to judge, 
Who comes to reiga. 



RETURN UNTO THY REST. 

Cease, my soul, thy strnyiugs ! 

Have they brought thee peace ? 
Come, CO m.ore delaying. 
Cease thy wanderings, cease. 
These vanities how vain I 
Wander not again. 

Thou hast found thy centre ; 

There, my soul, abide ; 
Never more adventure 
Now to swerve aside. 

These vanities how vain! 
\Yander not again. 

Thou hast reached thy dwelling ; 

Safe, sure anchorage 
From the perilous swelling 
Of the tempest's rage. 

These vanities how vain ! 
Wander not asrain. 



44 RETURN UNTO Td^i' Kii^r. 

Tranquil hours now greet the*?, 

In thy calm abode ; 
Gracious looks now meet thee, 
From thy loving God. 

These vanities how vain ! 
Wander not again. 

See yon star, love-lighted, 
Sparkles from on high ; 
See yon hope, love-plighted, 
Cheers thy heaviest sky. 

These vanities how vain ! 
Wander not again. 

Watch, my soul, the glory 

Coming brightly up, 
O'er yon forest hoary. 
O'er yon mountain-top. 

These vanities how vain I 
Wander not again. 

Tis the bridal morning ; 
Rise, make no delay ; 



RETURN UNTO THT.REST. 46 

Put on thine adorning, 
Cast thy weeds away. 

These vanities how vain ! 
Wander not again. 

-Pierce these mists that blind thee, 
Press to yonder prize, 
Break the bonds that bind thee, 
Rise, my soul, arise ! 

These vanities how vain I 
Wander not again. 



THE MORlSriNG STAR. 

There is a morning star, my soul, 

There is a mornino* star ; 
*Twill soon be near and bright, tho' now 

It seems so dim and far. 
And when time's stars have come and gone 
And every mist of earth has flown, 
That better star shall lise 
On this world's clouded skies, 

To shine forever ! 

The night is well nigh spent, my soul, 

The night is well nigh spent, 
And soon above our heads shall shine 

A glorious firmament : 
A sky all glad, and pure, and bright, 
The Lamb, once slain, its perfect light 
A star without a cloud. 
Whose light no mists enshroud, 

Descendinor never. 



THINGS HOPED FOK. 

These are fbe crowns that we shall wear 
When all thy saints are crowned ; 

These are the palms that we shall bear 
On yonder holy ground. 

Far off as yet, reserved in heaven, 

Above that veiling shy, 
They sparkle, Hke the stars of even, 

To hope's far-piercing eye. 

These are the robes, unsoiled and whif^e, 
Which then we shall put on, 

When, foremost 'mong the sons of light, 
We sit on yonder throne. 

That city with the jewelled crest, 

Like some new-Hghted sun ; 
A blaze of burning amethyst — 

Ten thousand orbs in one ;r— 



48 THINGS HOPED FOE. 

That i<= the city of the saiuts, 
Where we so soon shall stand, 

When we shall strike these desert-tents. 
And quit this desert-sand. 

These are the everlasting hills, 
With summits bathed iu day : 

The slopes down which the living rilis, 
Soft-lapsing, take their way. 

Fair vision I how thy distant gleam 

Brightens time's saddest hue ; 
Far fairer than the fairest dream, 
■ And yet so strangely true ! 

Fair vision ! how thou liftest up 
The drooping brow and eye ; 

With the calm joy of thy sure hope 
Fixing our souls on high. 

Thy light makes even the darkest page 
In memory's scroll grow fair ; 

Blanching the lines which tears and age 
Had only deepened there. 



THINGS nOFED FOR. 49 

With tbee in view, the rugged slope 

Becomes a level way, 
Smoothed by the magic of thy hope, 

And gladdened by thy ray. 

With thee in view, how poor appear 
The world's most winning smiles ; 

Vain is the tempter's subtlest snare. 
And vain helFs varied wiles. 

Time's glory fades ; its beauty now 

Has ceased to lure or blind ; 
Each gay enchantment here below 

Has lost its j)o\vcr to bind. 

Then welcome toil, and care, and pain 1 

And welcome sorrow too ! 
All toil is rest, all grief is gain, 

With such a prize in view. 

Come crown and throne, come robe and palm \ 

Burst forth glad stream of peace ! 

Come, holy city of the Lamb ! 

Rise, Sun_ of Righteousness I 
5 



i>0 THRO UG II DEATH TO LIFK. 

When shall the clouds that veil thy raya 

Forever be withdrawn? 
"Why dost thou tarry, day of days ? 

When shall thy gladness dawn ? 



THROUGH DEATH TO LIFE 

The star is not extinguished when it z^eta 
Upon the drill horizon ; it but goes 

To shine in otlier skies, then re-appear 
In ours, as fi'G»h as when it first arose. 

The river is not lost, when, o^er the rook. 
It pours its flood into the abyss below : 

Its scattered force re-gathering from the shock, 
It hastens onward, with yet fuller flow. 

The bright sun dies not, wlien the shadowing orb 
Of the eclipsing moon obscures its ray : 

It slill is shining on ; and soon to us 

Will burst undimmcd into the joy of day. 



TUROUGH DEATH TO LIFE. 61 

The lily dies not, when both flower and leaf 

Fade, and are strewed upon the chill sad ground ; 

Gone down for shelter to its mother-earth, 

'Twill rise, re-bloom, and shed its fragi-ance 
round. 

llie dew-drop dies not, when it leaves the flower. 
And passes upward on the beam of mom ; 

It does but hide itself in liijht on high, 
To its loved flower at twilight to return. 

The fine gold has not peiishe J, when the flame 
Seizes upon it with consuming glow ; 

In freshened splendor it comes forth anew, 
To sparkle on the monarch's throne or brow. 

Thus nothing dies, or only dies to live : 

Star, stream, sun, flower, the dew-drop, and the 
gold ; 

Each goodly thing, instinct with buoyant hope, 
Hastes to put on its purer, finer mould. 

rhus in the quiet joy of kindly trust. 

We bid each parting saint a brief farewell ; 



f2 THROUGH DE4TH TO LIFE. 

Weeping, yet smiling, we commit their dust 
To the safe keeping of the silent cell. 

Softly within that peaceful resting-place 

"We lay their wearied limbs, and bid the clay 

Press lightly on them till the night be past. 
And the far east give note of coming day. 

The day of re-appearing ! how it speeds ! 

He who is true and faithful speaks the word. 
Then shall we ever be with those we love — 

Then shall we be for ever with the Lord. 

The shout is heaj-i ; the archangel's voice goes 
forth ; 

The trumpet sounds ; the dead awake and sing ; 
The living put on glory ; one glad band, 

They hasten up to meet their coming King. 

Short death and darkness ! Endless life and light ! 

Short dimming ; endless shining in yon sphere. 
Where all is incorruptible and pure ; — 

The joy without the pain, the smile without the 
tear. 



HORA NOVISSIMA. 

Far down the ages now, 
Her journey well-nigh done, 

The pilgrim Church pursues her way, 
In haste to reach the crown. 

The story of the past 

Comes up before her view; 

How well it seems to suit her still, 
Old, and yet ever ugw. 

'Tis the same story still, 

Of sin and weariness, 
Of grace and love still flowing down 

To pardon and to bless. 

'Tis the old sorrow still, 

The briar and the thorn ; 

And His the same old solace yet— 

The hope of coming morn. 
6* 



54 nORA NOVISSIMA. 

No wider is the gate, 
No broader is tlie way, 

No smoother is the ancient path 
That leads to light and day. 

No lighter is the load 

Beneath whose weight we crjj 
No tamer grows the rebel flesh, 

Nor less our enemy. 

No sweeter is the cup, 
Nor less our lot of ill ; 

'Twas tribulation ages since, 
'Tis tiibulation still. 

No greener are the rocks. 

No fresher flow the rills. 
No roses in the wilds appear, 

No vines upon the hills. 

Still dark the sky above, 
And sharp the desert air , 

Tis wide, bleak desolation round, 
And shadow everywhere. 



HORA NOVISSIMA. 65 

Dawn lingers on yon cliiF; 

But, oh, how slow to spring ! 
Morning still nestles on yon wave, 

Afraid to try its wing. 

J^o slacker grows the figlit. 

No feebler is the foe, 
No less the need of armor tried, 

Of shield, and spear, and bow. 

Nor less we feel the blank 

Of earth's still absent King ; 
Whose presence is of all our bliss 

The everlasting spring. 

Tlius onward still we press, 

Through evil and through good, 

Through pain, and poverty, and want, 
Through peril and through blood. 

Still faithful to our God, 

And to our Captain true ; 
We follow where he leads the way, 

The kingdom in our view. 



THE NIGHT COMETH 

Time's sun is fast setting, 

Its twiliglit is nigh, 
Its eveniner is fallinjy 

In oloud o'er tlie skj, 
Its shadows are stretching 

In ominous gloom ; 
Its midnight approaches, 
The midnight of doom. 
Then haste, siimer, haste, there is mercy for thee, 
And wrath is preparing, — flee, h'ngerer, flee ! 

Rides forth tlie fierce tempest 
On the wing of the cloud ; 
The moan of the night-blast 

Is fitful and loud ; 
The mountains are heaving, 

The forests are bowed, 
The ocean is surging, 
Earth gathers its shroud. 
Then haste, sinner, haste, there is mercy for thee, 
And wrath is preparing, — flee, lingerer, flee ! 



THE NIGHT COMETH. 67 

The vision is.nearing — 

The Judge and the throne ! — 
The voice of the Angel 

Proclaims "It is done." 
On the whirl of the tempest 
• Its ruler shall couae, 

And the blaze of its glory 
Flash out from its gloom, — 
Then haste, sinner, haste, there is mercy for ihee, 
And wrath is preparing, — flee, lingerer, flee ! 

With clouds He is coming ! 

His people shall sing, 
With gladness they hail him 

Redeemer and King. 
The iron rod wielding, 

The rod of his ire. 
He Cometh to kindle 

Earth's last fatal fire ! 
Then haste, sinner, haste, there is mercy for thee, 
And wrath is preparing, — flee, lingerer, flee ! 



TEE DAY AFTER ARMAGEDDON. 



" They have blown tlie tmmpet, but none goeth to the 
battle."— Ezek. vil 14. 



'Tis the summons to battle ! 

But the cry is unheard ; 
The trumpet has spoken, 

Not a wariior has stirred. 

Hark, the summons to battle ! 

It has sounded again ; 
Still louder and keener ; — 

It has sounded in vain. 

Yet a third time and shriller, 
That war-note has blovrn ; 

But the answer that cometh 
Is the echo alone. 



THE DAY AFTER AKilAGEDDON. 59 

'Tis the silence of silence ! 

Tower, tent, vale, and hill, 
Field, forest, and highway, — 

All soundless and still ! 

No challenge is Hfted, 

No signal unfurled ; 
Tis man's dark hour of teiTor, 

The awe of the world. 

For the arm of Jehovah 

Has been bared in its might, 

And the sword of his vengeance 
Has been burnished to smite. 

Through the ridges of battle 
His ploughshare has sped ; 

And the tents of the living 
Are the tombs of the dead. 

The rude roar of millions 

Is hushed in an hour ; 
The array of the mighty 

Is crushed in its power. 



60 THE DAY AFTER ARMAGEDDOiy. 

'Tsvas man's proudest muster 
Of sinew and steel : 

His army of armies, 
Mail-clad to the lieel. 

No sun had e'er dawned on 

So fearful a day, 
No trumpet had marshalled 

So dread an array. 

As if earth in her frenzv, 
From each region afar, 

Had poured forth her nations 
For the shock of that war. 

In the flush of their manhood, 
In the bud of their prime, 

In veteran ripeness, — 
The men of each clime 

Came thronging and rushing, 
Like rivers in flood, 

Detymg the terrors 
And vengeance of God. 



THE DAY AFTER ARMAGEDDON. 61 

For the niler of darkness, 

The God of this world, 
Had summoned his armies. 

His banner unfurled. 

As the storm-cloud it gathered, 

As the lightning it sj)ed ; 
As the mist it has vanished ; — 

All is still as the dead. 

Like the desert at midnight, — 

Not a breath nor a beam ; 
'Tis the silence of silence, 

The dream of a dream. 

Now, chains for the spoiler ! 

Dark and swift be his doom ! 
Thou hast trodden the nations, — 

Thy treading is come ! 

Earth, cease now thy wailing. 
Thy wounds bleed no more ; 

Lo, the curse is departing, 
rhy sorrows are o'er ! 



62 THE DAY AFTFR ARMAGEDDON. 

Rise, daughter of Judah ; 

Awake now and sing ; 
It has come, the glad kingdom, 

He has come, the great King! 

Thy long night is ending 
Of sorrow and wrong ; 
• For shame there is glory, 
For weeping a song. 

The new morn is dawning, 
Bursts forth the new sun ; 

The new verdure is smihng, 
The new age is begun. 



REST YONDER. 

, This is not my place of resting, 
Mine 's a city yet to come ; 
Onward to it I am hasting — 
On to my eternal home. 

In it all is light and glory, 
O'er it shines a nightless day ; 

Every trace of sin's sad story, 
All the curse, has passed away. 

There the Lamb, our Shepherd, leads us, 
By the streams of life along ; 

On the freshest pastures feeds us, 
Turns our sighing into song. 

Soon we pass this desert dreary, 
Soon we bid farewell to pain ; 

Never more be sad or weary, 
Never, never sin ag-ain. 



HOW LONG! 

Do they still linger — these slow-treading ages? 

How long must we still beai' their cold delay? 
Streak after streak the glowing dawn presages ; 

And yet it breaks not — the expected day ! 

Each tossing year, with prophet-lip liath spoken, 
" Prepare your praises, earth awake and sing !" 

And yet yon dome of blue remains unbroken ; 
No tidings yet of the descending King ! 

Darkness still darkens; nearer now and nearer 
The lightnings gleam ; the sea's scorched billows 
moan ; 

And the sere leaf of earth is growing serer ; 
Creation droops, and heaves a bitterer groan. 

storm and earthquake, wind and warring thunder, 
Your hour is coming ! One wild outburst more, 

One other day of war, and ^vi-eck, and plunder ; 
And then your desolating reign is o'er. 



HOW long! 65 

Th«se plains are not your battle-field for ever ; 

That glassy deep was never naade for you ; 
These mountains were not built for you t > ^ hiver ; 

These buds are not for your rude hands to strew. 

Flee and give back to earth its verdant gladness, 
The early freshness of its unsoiled dew; 

Take hence your sackcloth, with its stormy sadness ; 
And let these wrinkled skies their youth renew. 

Give back that day of days, the seventh and fairest, 
When, like a gem new-set, earth flung afar 

Her glory, of creation's gems the rarest. 
Sparkling in beauty to each kindred star. 

Come back, thou holy love, so rudely banished, 
"When evil came, and hate, and fear, and wrong ; 

Return, thou joyous light, so quickly vanished ; 
Revive, thou life that death has quenched so long 

Re-fix, re-knit the chain so harshly broken, 

That bound this lower orb to yon bright heaven ; 

Tlaug out on high the ever-golden token, 

That tells of earth renewed and man forgiven. 
6* 



66 . A LITTLE WHILE. 

Withdraw tlie veil tb-at has for ages hidden 
That upper kingdom from this nether sphere ; 

Renew the fellowship so long forbidden ; 
O God, thyself take up thy dwelling here 1 



A LITTLE WHILE. 

Beyond the smiling and the weeping 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the waking and the sleeping, 
Beyond the sowing and the reaping, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 
Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the blooming and the fading, 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the shining and the shading, 
Beyond the hoping and the dreading, 

I shall be soon. 



A LITTLE WHILE. 

Love, rest, and home ! 

Sweet hope ! 

Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the rising and the setting 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the calming and the fretting, 
Beyond remembering and forgetting, 
I shall be soon, 
Love, rest, and home ! 
Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the gathering and the strowing 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the ebbing and the flowing, 
Beyond the coming and the going, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 
Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the parting and the meeting 
I shall be soon. 



fil 



68 A LITTLE WHILE. 

Beyond the farewell and tlie greeting, 
Beyond tliis pulse's fever-beating, 
I shall be soon. 

Love, rest, and home ! 

Sweet hope ! 

Lord, tany not, but come. 

Beyond the frost-chain and the fever 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the rock-waste and the river, 
Beyond the ever and the never, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 
Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 



NOT VERY FAR. 

ScRELY, yon lieaveii, where angels see God's face, 

Is not so distant as we deem 
From this low earth ? 'Tis but a little space, 

The narrow crossing of a slender stream ; 
'Tis but a veil, which winds might blow aside : 
iTes, these are all that us of earth divide, 
From the bright dwelling of the glorified, — 

The Land of which I dream ! 

These peats are nearer heaven than earth below. 

These hills are higher than they seem ; 
'Tis not the clouds they touch, nor the soft brow 

Of the o'er-bendino: azure as we deem. 
'Tis the blue floor of heaven that they up-bear *, 
And like some old and wildly rugged stair. 
They lift us to the land where all is fair, — 
The Land of which I dream ! 

These ocean-waves, in their unmeasured sweep, 
Are brighter, bluer, than they seem ; 



70 NOT VERY FAR. 

True image here of the celestial deep, — 

Fed from the fulness of the unfailing stream,— 
Heaven's glassy sea of everlasting rest. 
With not a breath to stir its silent breast, 
The sea that laves the land where all are blest, — 
The Land of which I dream ! 

And these keen stars, the bridal gems of Night, 

Are purer, lovelier, than they seem ; 
Filled from the inner fountain of deep light, 

They pour down heaven's own beam ; 
Clear-speaking from their throne of glorious blue, 
In accents ever ancient, ever new, 
Of the glad home above, beyond our view, — 

The Land of which I dream ! 

This life of ours, these lingering yenrs of earth. 

Are briefer, swifter, than they seem ; 
A little while, and the great second birth 

Of time shall come, the prophet's ancient theme 1 
Then He, the King, the Judge at length shall come, 
And for this desert, where we sadly roam. 
Shall give the kingdom for our endless home, — 
The Land of which I dream 1 



THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL. 

Up alid away, like the clew of the morningj 
Soantig from earth to its home in the sun,-« 

80 let me steal away, gently and lovingly, 
Only remembered by vrhjit I have done. 

My name and my place and my tomb, all forgottea, 
The brief race of time well and patiently run. 

So let me pass away, peacefully, silently, 
Only remembered by what I have done. 

Gladly away from this toil would I hasten, 
Up to the crown that for me has been won ; 

Unthought of by man in rewards or in praises, — - 
Only remembered by what I have done. 

Up and aw^ay, like the odors of sunset, 

That sweeten the twilight as darkness comes oiiy-« 
So be my life, — a thing f^lt but not noticed, 

And I but remembered by what I have done. 



"72 THE EVEKLASTIISG MEMORIAL. 

Yes, like the fragrance tluit wanders iu freshness, 
When the flowers that it came from are closed ip 
and gone, — 

So would I be to this world's weary dwellers, 
Only remembered by what I have done. 

Needs there the praise of the love-written record, 
The name and the epitaph graved on the stone ? 

The things we have lived for, — let them be our story, 
We ourselves but remembered by what we have 
done. 

I need not be missed, if my life has been bearing 
(As its summer and autumn moved silently on) 

The bloom, and the fruit, and the seed of its season ; 
I shall still be remembered by what I have done. 

I need not be missed, if another succeed me, 

To reap down those fields which in spring I have 
sown ; 
He who ploughed and who sowed is not missed by 
the reaper. 
He is only remembered by what he has done. 



THE £V'£BLAgTIKG MEMORIAL. 73 

Not myself, but the truth that iu life I have spoken, 
Not myself, but the seed that in life I have sown, 

Shall pass on to ages, — all about me forgotten. 
Save the truth I have spoken, the things I have 
done. 

So let my living be, so be ray dying ; 

So let my name lie, unblazoned, unknown ; 
Unpraised and unmissed, I shall still be reixiembered; 

Yes, — but remembered by what I have done. 

7 



OUR ONE LIFE. 

Ti8 not for man to trifle ! Life is brie^ 

And sin is here. 
Our age is but the falling of a leaf, 

A dropping tear. 
We have no time to sport away the houra, 
All must be earnest in a world like ours. 

Not many lives, but only one have we; — 

One, only one ; — 
How sacred should that one life ever be — 

That narrow span ! — 
Day after day filled up with blessed toil, 
Hour after hour still bringing in new spoiL 

Our beiDg is no shadow of thin air. 

No vacant dream, 
No fable of the things that never were, 

But only seem. 



OUR OKE LIFE. 76 

Tis full of meaning as of mystery, 

Though strange and solemn may that meaning be. 

Our sorrows are no phantom of the night, 

Iso idle tale ; 
No cloud that floats along a sky of light, 

On summer gale. 
They are the true realities of earth, 
Friends and companions even from our birth. 

life below — how brief, and poor, and sad 1 

One heavy sigh. 
life above — how long, how fair, and glad ; 

An endless joy. 
Oh, to be done with daily dying here ; 
Oh, to begin the living in yon sphere ! 

day of time, how dark ! sky and earth, 

How dull your hue ; 
day of Christ — how bright! sky and eaith, 

Made fair and new ! 
Come, better Eden, with thy fresher green ; 
Come, brighter Salem, gladden all the scene I 



THE CONSOLATION. 

The storm has broken, and tlie tcavy blast, 

That stifled mom's free breath and shook its dew, 

Is dying into sunshine ; and the hist 

Dull cloud has vanished from yon arch of blue. 

7*^ I know it is but for a day ; the wiir 

"Must soon be -waged again 'twixt earth and heaven 
Another tempest will arise to mar 

The tranquil beauty of the fragrant even. 

/ And yet I joy as stoim on storm awakes ; — 

/ Not that I love the uproar or the gloom ; 

! But in each tempest over earth that breaks, 

y I count one fewer outburst yet to come. 

No groan creation heaves is heaved in vain, 
Nor e'er shall be repeated; it is done. 

Once heaved it never shall be heaved again ; 

Earth's pangs and throes are lessening one by one. 



THE CONSOLATION. 77 

So falls the stroke of sorrow, and so springs 
Strange joy and comfort from the very grief, 

Even to the weariest sufferer ; so brings 
Each heavy burden still its own relief. 

' One cross the less remains for me to bear ; 

Already borne is that of yesterday ; 

That of to-day shall no to-morrow share ; 

) To-morrow's, with itself, shall pass away. 

That which is added to the troubled past 
Is taken from the future, whose sad store 

Grows less and less each day, till soon the last 
Dull wave of woe shall break upon our shore. 

The storm that yesterday ploughed up the sea 

Is buried now beneath its level blue ; 
One storm the fewer now remains for me, 

Ere sky and earth are made for ever new, 

7* 



THE REAL. 

There are no dreams beyond the tomb ! 

The night of dreams is o'er ; 
'Tis only here they go and come, 

On this dull, shadowy shore. 

"When we arise from off this restless couch 

Of weariness and pain, 
"When death awakes us with his stony touch 

Never to sleep again ; 

Then shadows vanish ; the invisible 

Rises before our view ; 
On every side comes up the real, 

The certain, and the true. 

And when the morn of morns sliall come, 

The resurrection-day, 
Then yet more real shall all become, 

A-nd shadows pass away. 



THE REAL. 79 

How true aud great that world must be, 

How false, how little this ! 
Man sees not Aviiat he seems to see, 

He seems not what he is. 

Hoj'e is the hollow and untrue ; 

This is the night of dreams ; 
Thickly o'erspread with mist and dew, 

Earth is not what it seems. 

Each morn is coming with its light, 

To chase each shade and ill, 
Then time's vam beauty shall take flight, 

Like rainbow from the hill. 

And truth returneth from on high ; 

Gone is the night of dreams, 
Gone is the shadow and the lie, — 

Earth shall be what it seems. 



NOT HERE. 

Softly the winds were fanning this fresh cheek, 
When heedless boyhood loved to dream and stiay- 

I loved earth's sides, nor deemed them sad or bleat ; 
Its fields seemed still to breathe of joyous May. 

I said, what better home shall this heart seek ? 
Here let me dwell for aye. 

Cold winter smote, frosto nipped, sore tempests broke. 
And the dark cloud shut out the beauteous day ; 

The fair flower perished, and the blast's rude shock 
Struck the strong pine, and swept its pride away ; 

My fond dream passed, I said, as I awoke, 
" I would not live alway." 

Yet would I not turn back, nor faint, nor sigh, 
Nor hhun the war, nor murmur at the doom ; 

I see the beacon-light of yonder sky 

Beyond the earth and sea — beyond the tomb I 

And then I say, " O Saviour, ever nigh. 
Light me through this cold gloom " 



NOT NOW. 

Days come and go, 
In jo}^ or Avoe ; 
Days go and come, 
In endless sum. 

Only the eternal day 

Shall come but never go 

Only the eternal tide 

Shall never ebb but flow. 

O long eternity, 

My soul goes forth to thee ! 

Suns set and rise 

In these dull skies, 

Suns rise and set, 

Till men forget, 

The day is at the door, 
When they shall rise no more. 
O everlasting Sun, 
Whose race is never run, 
Be thou my endless light. 
Then shall I fear no night ! 



LIGHT'S TEACHINGS. 

The light is ever silent; 

It calls up voices over sea and earth. 

And fills the glowing air with harmonies, 

The lark's gay chant, the note of forest-dove, 

The lamb's quick bleat, and the bee's earnest hum,] 

The sea-bird's winged wail upon the w^ave. 

It wakes the voice of childhood, soft and clear; 

The city's noisy rush, the village-stir. 

And the world's mighty murmur that had sunk. 

For a short hour, to sleep upon the down 

That darkness spread for wearied limbs and eyes. 

But still it sounds not, speaks not, whispei's not ! 

Not one faint throb of its vast pulse is heard 

By creature-ear. How silent is the light ! 

Even when of old it wakened Memnon's lyre. 

It breathed no music of its own ; and still. 

When at sweet sunrise, on its golden wings, 

■ It brings the melodies of dawn to man. 
It scatters them in silence o'er the earth. 



LIGITl's TEACHINGS. 83 

The light is ever siieut ; 

It sparkles on morn's million gems of dew. 

It flings itself iuto the shower of noon, 

It weaves its gold into the cloud of sunset — • 

Yet not a sound is heaid ; it dashes full 

On yon broad rock, yet not an echo answers ; 

It lights in myriad drops upon the flower. 

Yet not a blossom stirs, it does, not move 

The slightest film of floating gossamer, 

Which the faint touch of insect's wing vrould shiver. 

The light is ever silent ; 

Most silent of all heavenly silences; 
Not even the darkness stiller, nor so still ; 
Too swift for sound or speech, it rushes on 
Right through the yielding skies, a massive flood 
Of multitudinous beams ; an endless sea, 
That flows but ebbs not, breaking on the shore 
Of this dark earth, with never-ceasing wave, 
Yet in its swiftest flow, or fullest spring-tide, 
Giving less sound than does one falling blossom, 
Which the May breeze lays lightly on the sward. 

Such let my life be here ; 

Not marked by noise but by success alone ; 



84 light's teachings. 

Not known by bustle but by useful deeds, 

Quiet and gentle, clccr end fair as light ; 

Yet full of its all-j5enetraiii!g power, 

Its silent but resistless influence ; 

"Wasting no needless sound, yet ever working, 

Hour after bour, upon a needy woild. 

Sunshine is ever calm ; 

There are no tempests in yon sea of beams, 
That bright Pacific on whose peaceful bosom 
All happy things come floating down to us. 
Light has no hurricane, no angry blast, 
No turbid torrent laying waste our plains. 
Morn after morn goes by, and the fresh light, 
Pours in upon the darkness, yet no storm 
Awakes, no eddy stirs the tranquil glow ; 
No crested billow rises, and no foam 
Drifting along, tells of some tumult past. 

Sunshine is ever strong ; 

No blast can break or bend one single ray ; 
In seven-fold strength it faces wave and wind 
Heedless of their opposing turbulence. 
It passes through them in its quiet power. 
Unruffled, and unbroken, and unbent. 



LIGHTS TEACHINGS. 85 

No njiglit of armies, and no rage of storms, 
Can turn aside one sunbeam from its path, 
Or bate its speed, or force it back again 
To the far fountain-liead from whence it came. 

Sunshine is ever pure ; 

No ^t of man can rob it of its beauty, 

Nor stain its unpolluted heavenliness. 

It is the fairest, purest thing in nature, 

Fit type of that fair heaven ^vhe^e all is pure, 

And into which no evil thing can enter, 

"Where darkness comes not, where no shadow falls, 

Where night and sin can have no dwelling-place. 

Sunshine is ever joyous ; 

Its birthplace is in yon bright orb which flings, 
O'er cliff and vale its wealth of rosy smiles. 
Each simbeam seems the very soul of joy ; 
No sadness soils it ; scattering gladsomeness, 
Like a bright angel, onward still it moves. 
The veiy churchyard brightens as the ray 
Alights upon its tombstones, and the turf 
Seems strangely heaving to the radiant glow, 
As if fore-dating the expected sunrise. 

When, ?t the firet gleam of the Morning-Star 

8 



86 



earth's beauty. 



The faithful giave shall render up its treasure, 
And sunshine, such as earth has never known, 
Shall fill these skies with mirth, and smiles, and 

beauty 
Erasino- each sad wrinkle from their brow, 
Which the long curse had deeply graven there. 



EARTH'S BEAUTY. 

Where the wave murmurs not, 

Where the gust eddies not, 

Where the stream rushes not, 

Where the cliff shadows not. 

Where the wood darkens not, 
I would not be ! 

Bright tho' the heavens were, 

Rich tho' the flowers there, 

Sweet tho' the fragrant air, 

And all as Eden fair. 

Yet as a dweller there, 
I would not be ! 
O wave, and breeze, and rill, and rock, and wood, 
Was it not God himself that called you good ? 



THE NIGHT AND. THE MORNING. 

To dream a troubled dream, and then awaken 
To the soft gladness of a summer sky ; 

To dream ourselves alone, unloved, foreaken, 

And then to wake 'mid smiles, and love, and joy; 

To look at evenhig on the storm's rude motion, 
The cloudy tumult of the fretted deep ; 

And then at day-hurst upon that same ocean. 
Soothed to the stillness of its stillest sleep — 

So runs our course — so tells the church her story, 

So to the end shall it be ever told ; 
Brief shame on earth, but after shame the glory. 

That wanes not, dims not, never waxes old. 

Lord Jesus, come, and end this troubled dreaming ! 

Dark shadows vanish, rosy twilight break ! 
Morn of the true and real, burst forth, calm-beaming 

Day of the beautiful, arise, awake ! 



HOPE OF DAY. 



Till the day dawn, 
And the Day-star arise — 

F^er, keep thy son, 

Thy feeble, faithless one ! 

O guide him througli the waste, 

Till the long gloom be past. 

It is a night of fear ; 

The path is I'ough and drear; 

Clouds frown, blasts rush along, 

The temj)ests gather strong ; 

Strange perils compass me, 

Of flood, fire, rock, and sea ; 

Yet I, in loneliness. 

Would fain still onward press. 
felt and known, but yet unseen, be nigh ; 
O loved and longed-for, hear each hidden sigh ; 
Leave me not, struggling thus, to sink and die. 



Till the day dawn, 
And the Day-star arise- 



HOPE OF DAT. 89 

Saviour, let thy love, 
Down dropping from above, 
This withered soul renew 
With thy flower-freshening dew ! 

never-changing Friend, 
My failing steps attend ; 
Hold thou me' up, and so 

1 shall pass safely through. 
Still teep me at thy side, 
Thou who for me hast died ; 
light me on my way, 

My joy, my strength, my stay. 
clasp me closer to t.hy pierced side. 
Thou who for me the death of deaths hast died ; 
Let not this staggering faith be too too sorely tried. 

Till the day dawn, 

And the Day-star arise — 

Spirit of gentle love. 

Thou tempest-calming dove, 

Come, and within me dwell, 

Come, and all gloom dispel. 

Most blessed Comforter, 

My weaiy footsteps cheer. 



90 HOPE OF DAY. 

light and lamp divine, 

Upon my midnight shine, 

Better than star or moon, 

Brighter than day's bright noon, 

O let thy joyous ray 

Turn all my night to day. 
When thou art absent, even my joy is sad, 
"When thou ai t with me, even my grief is glad ; 
Let not thy silence now sorrow to sorrow add. 

Till the day dawn, 

And the Day-star arise — 

Church of the living God, 

Pursue thy upward road ; 

Look not behind nor stray 

From the well-trodden way. 

Be not ashamed to bear 

Thy cross on earth, nor fear 

Reproach and poverty. 

For him who died for thee. 

With girded loins press on, 

Till the reward is won. 

Think of thy absent Lord, 

Hold fast thy plighted word. 



DAY-SPRING. 91 

Duff not thy weeds of widowhood, nor fear 

To let the world, thro' which thou passest, hear 

The widow's cry, and see the widow's faithful tear. 



DAY-SPRING. 

The loving mora is springing 
From night's unloving gloom ; 

And earth seems now arising 
In beauty from the tomb, 

See daylight far above us, 
Tinging each cloudy wreatii, 

Ere it showers itself in splendor 
Upon the plain beneath. 

'T is sparkling on the mountain-peak, 
'T is hurrying down the vale, 

'T is bursting thro' the forest-boughs, 
'Tis freshening in the gale. 



92 DAy-sPRr?ro. 

*T is mingling with tlie river's smile, 
'T is glistening in tbe dew, 

*T is flinging far its silver not, 
O'er ocean's braided blue. 

'Tis blushing o'er tbe meadow's gold, 
'Tis lighting on the flower, 

Unfolding every gentle bud 
To the gladness of the hour. 

'T is gilding the old ruin's moss, 
'Tis gleaming from the spire ; 

And thro' the crumbling window-shafts 
It shoots its livitig fire. 

'T is quivering in the village smoke 
That curls the low roof o'er ; 

It beats against the castle gate, 
And at the cottage door. 

O'er the church-yard it is resting,- 
Ori stone, and grass, and mould, 

Giving voice to each grey tombstone, 
As to Memnon's havp of old. 



DAY-Sl'RING. 93 

O the gay burst of beauty 

That is flushing over earth, 
And calling forth its millions 

To holy morning mirth ! 

Yet look we for a sunrise 

More beautiful than this ; 
And watch we for a dawning 

Of purer light and bliss. 

When a far fairer morniuof 

O'er greener hills shall rise. 
And a far fresher sunlight 

Look down from bluer skies. 

Is not creation weary ? 

Has sin not reigned too long ? 
Hear, Lord, thy Church's pleading, 

Come, end her day of wrong ! 



DUST TO DUST. 

Dust receive thy kindred ! 

Earth take now thine own I 
To thee this trust is rendered ; 

In thee this seed is sown. 

Guard the precious treasure, 

Ever-faithful tomb ! 
Keep it all uurifled, 

Till the Master come. 

Time's tide of change and uproar 
Breaks above thy head ; 

Feet of restless millions 
O'er thy chambers tread. 

Earthquakes, whirlwinds, tempests, 
Tear the quivering ground ; 

Voices, trumpets, thunders. 
Fill the air around. 



O 



DUST TO DUST. 95 

Roar of raging battle ; 

Stout, and shriek, and wail, 
Startle even the bravest, 

Turn the fresh cheek pale. 

Torrent rolled on torrent, 

Bursts o'er bank and bar,— 
Sweeping down our valleys, 

Swells the rising war. 

Billow meeting billow, 

Beats the shattered strand, 
Rousing ocean-echoes. 

Shaking sea and land. 

But these sounds of terror 

Pierce not this low tomb ; 
N^or break the happy slumbers 

Of this quiet home. 

Couch of the tranquil slumbei 

For the weary brow ; 
Rest of the faint and toiling. 

Take this loved one now. 



DUST TO DUST. 

Turf of the shaded church-yard. 

Warder of the clay, 
Watch the toil-worn sleeper, 

Till the awaking day. 

Watch the well-loved sleeper, 
Guard that placid form ; 

Fold around it gently ; 
Shield it from alarm. 

Clasp it kindly, fondly, 
To cherish, not destroy ; 

Clasp it as the mother 
Clasps her nestling joy. 



Guard the precious trcasutd, 
Ever faithful tomb ; 

Keep it all unrifled 
Ti'l the Master come. 



ARISE AND DEPART. 

Brethren, arise, 
Let us go hence ! 

Defiled, polluted thus, 

This is no home for us ; 

Till earth is purified, 

We may not here abide. 

We were not born for earth,— ^ 

The city of our birth, 

The better paradise, 

Is far above these skies. 

Upward then let us soar, 

^ Cleaving t-o dust no more ! 

Brethren, arise, 

Let us go hence ! , 

Death and the grave are here^ 
The sick-bed and the bier. 
The children of the tomb 
May love this kindred gloom ; 



09 ARISE AND DEPART, 

But we, the deathless band, 
Must see the deathless land. 
The mortal here may rove, 
The immortal dwell above. 
Here we can only die, 
Let us ascend on high I 

Brethren, arise, 
Let us go hence ! 

For we are weary here. 
The ever-falling tear, 
The ever-swelling sigh, 
The sorrow ever nigh, 
The sia still flowing on, 
Creation's ceaseless groan, 
The tumult near and far, 
The universal war, 
The sounds that never ceas^" 
These are our weariness I 

Brethren, arise, 
Let us go hence ! 

This is not our abode ; 
Too far, too far from God ! 



ARISE AND DEPART. 99 

TJie angels dwell not here ; 
There falls not on the ear 
The everlasting song, 
From the celestial throng. 
'Tis discord here alone, 
Earth's melody is gone , 
Her harp lies broken now ; 
Her praise has ceased to flow ! 

Brethren, arise, 
Let us go hence ! 

The New Jerusalem, 
Like a resplendent gem, 
Sends down its heavenly light, 
Attracting our dull sight. 
I see the bright ones wait 
At each fair pearly gate ; 
I hear their voices call ; 
I see the jasper wall, 
The clear translucent gold. 
The glory all untold ! 

Brethren, arise, 
Let us go hence I 



100 THE KINGDOM. 



What are earth's joys and gems, 
What are its diadems ? 
Our crowns are waiting us 
Within our Father's house. 
Our friends above the skies 
Are bidding us arise ; 
Our Lord, he calls away 
To scenes of sweeter day 
Than this sad earth can know. 
Let us arise and go ! 



THE KINGDOM. 

Peace ! earth's last battle has been won ; 

Its days of conflict now are o'er ; 
The Prince of peace ascends the throne, 

And war has ceased from shore to shore. 

Rest ! the world's day of toil is past ; 

Each storm is hushed above, below, 
Creation's joy has come at last. 

After six thousand years of woe. 



THE KINGDOM. 101 

Messiah reigns I earth's king has come I 

Its diadems are on his brow, 
Its rebel kingdoms have become 

His everlasting kingdom now. 

This earth again is Paradise ; 

The desert blossoms as the rose ; 
Clothed in its robes of bridal bliss, 

Creation has forgot its woes. 

0, long-expected, absent long. 

Star of creation's troubled gloom ! 

Let heaven and earth break forth in song, 
Messiah ! Saviour ! art thou come ? 

For thou hast bought us with thy blood, 
And thou wast slain to set us free ; 

Thou mad'st us kings and priests to God, 
And we shall reign on earth with thee ! 
9* 



NEWLY FALLEN ASLEEP 

Past all pain for ever, 

Done with sickness now ; 
Let me close thine eyes, mother, 

Let me smooth thy brow. 
Rest and health and gladness,— 

These thy portions now ; 
Let me press thy hand, mother, 

Let me kiss thy brow. 

Eyes that shall never weep, 
Life's tears all shed, 
Its farewells said, — 

These shall be thine ! 
All well with thee ; 

0, would that they were mine ! 

A brow without a shade. 
Each wrinkle smoothed, 
Each throbbing soothed, 



NEWLY FALLEN AoLEEP. 103 

That shall be thine ! 

All well with thee ; 
O, would that it were mine ! 

A tono-ue that stammers not 

In tuneful praise, 

Through endless days, 
That shall be thine ! 

All well with thee. 
O would that it were mine ! 

A voice that trembles not ; 

All quivering past, 

Death's sigh the last, — 
That shall be thine ! 

All well with thee ; 
O, would that it were mine ! < 

Limbs that shall never tire, 

Nor ask to rest, 

In service blest, — 
These shall be thine ! 

All well with thee ; 
O, would that they were mine I 



104 NEWLY FALLEN ASLEEP. 

A frame that cannot ache ; 
Earth's labors clone, 
Life's battle won, — 

That shall be thine ! 
All well with thee ; 

0, would that it were mine ! 

A heart that flutters not ; 
No timid throb, 
No quick-breathed sob,- 

That shall be thine ! 

All well with thee ; 

O, would that it were mine ! 

A will that swerveth not 
At frown or smile. 
At threat or wile, — 

That shall be thine ! 

All well with thee; 

O, would that it were mine I 

A soul still upward bent 
On higher flight, 
With wing of light,-— 



NEWLY FALLEN ASLEEP. 105 

That shall be thine ! 

All well with thee ; 
O, would that it were mine ! 

Hours without fret or care ; 

The race well run, 

The prize well won, — 
These shall be thine ? 

All well with thee ; 
0, would that they were mine I 

Days without toil or grief; 
Time's burdens borne 
With strength well-worn, — 

These shall be thine 

All well with thee ; 

O, w ould that they were mine I 

Rest without broken dreams, 

Or wakeful fears, 

Or hidden tears, 
That shall be thine ; 

All well with thee ; 
O, would thnt it were mine ! 



106 KEWLY FALLEN ASLEEP. 

Life that shall fear no death, 
God's life above, 
Of light and love, — 

That shall be thine ! 
All well with thee ; 

0, would that it were mine ! 

Morn that shall light the tomb, 
And call from dust 
The slumbering just, — 

That shall be thine ! 
All well with thee 

O, would that it were mine I 



THE FLESH RESTING IN HOPE. 

" The grave is mine hoiise : I have made my bed in the 
darkness .... the clods of the valley shall be sweet unto 
him." — Jjb xxvil 13, xi. 33 

Lie down, frail body, here, 

Earth has no fairer bed, 
No gentler pillow to afford, — 

Come, rest thy home-sick head. 

Lie down, " vile body," * here, 
This mould is smoothly strewn, 

No couch of flowers more softly spread, — 
Come, make this grave thine ow^n. 

Lie down with all thy aches, 

There is no achiug here ; 
How soon shall all thy life-long ills 

For ever disappear. 

* Phil, ill 21. 



108 THE FLESH RESTING IN HOPE. 

Thro' these well-guarded gates 

No foe can entrance gain ; 
No sickness wastes, nor once intrudes 

The memory of pain. 

The tossings of the night, 

The frettings of the day, 
All end, and like a cloud of dawn, 

Melt from thy skies away. 

Foot-sore and worn thou art, 
Breathless with toil and fight, 

How welcome now the long-sought sleep 
Of this all-tranquil uight. 

Brief night and quiet couch 
In some star-lighted room, 

Watched but by one beloved eye, 
Whose light dispels all gloom ; — 

A sky without a cloud, 

A sea without a wave, — 
These are but shadows of thy rest 

In this thy peaceful grave. 



THE FLESH RESTING IN HOPE. 109 

It^st for the toiling hand, 

Rest for the ihought-wom brow, 

Rest for the Aveary way-sore feet, 
Rest from all labor now. 

Rest for the fevered brain, 

Rest for the throbbing eye; 
Thro' these parched lips of thine no more, 

Shall pass the moan or sigh. 

Soon shall the trump of God 

Give out the welcome sound, 
That shakes thy silent chamber-walls 

And breaks the tuif-sealed ground. 

Ye dwellers in tlie du?t, 

Awake, come forth and sing; 
Sharp has your frost of winter beei/, 

But bright shall be your spring. 

Twas sown in weakness here ; 

'Twill then be raised in power. 
That which was sown an earthly seed. 

Shall r/se a heavenly flower. 
10 



REST. 

Not loug, not long ! — The spi lit- wasting fever 

Of this strange life shall quit each throbbing vein ; 

And this wild pulse flow placidly for ever ; 
And endless peace relieve the burning brain. 

Earth's joys are but a dream ; its destiny 
Is but de3ay and death. I*s fairest form 

Sunshine and shadow mixed. Its brightest- day 
A rainbow braided on the wreaths of storm. 

Yet there is blessedness that changeth not ; 

A rest with God, a life that cannot die ; 
A better portion and a brighter lot ; 

A home with Christ, a heiitage on high. 

Hope for the hopeless, for the weary, rest, 
More gentle than the still repose of even ! 

Joy for the joyless, bliss for the unblest ; 
Homes for the desolate in yonder heaven ! 



REST. Ill 

The tempest makes returning calm more dear ; 

The darkest midnight makes the brightest star, 
Even so to us when all is ended here, 

Shall be the past, remembered from afar. 

Then welcome change and death ! Since these alone 
Can 5reak life's fetters, and dissolve its spell ; 
( Welcome all present change, which speeds us on 
So swift to that ^^hich is unchangeable. 



A PILGRIM'S SONG. 

A FEW more years sLall roll, 
A few more seasons come ; 

And we sliall be with those that rest, 
Asleep within the tomb. 

Then, O ray Lord, prepare 
My soul for that great day ; 

O wash me in thy precious blood, 

' And take my sins away. 

A few more suns shall set 

O'er these dark hills of time ; 
And we shall be where suns are not, 

A far serener clime. 
Then, O my Lord, prepare 

My soul for that blest day ; 
O wash me in thy precious blood, 

And take my sins away. 

A few more storms shall beat 
On this wild rocky shore ; 



A PILGRIM*S SONG. 113 

And we shall be wbere tempests cease, 

And sursres swell no more. 
Then, my Lord, prepare 

My soul for that calm day ; 
O wash me in thy precious blood, 

And take my sins away. 

A few more struggles here, 

A few more partings o'er, 
A few more toils, a few more tears, 

And we shall weep no more. 
Then, my Lord, prepare 

My soul for that blest day ; 
O wash me in thy precious blood, 

And take my sins away. 

A few more Sabbaths here 

Shall cheer us on our way ; 
And we shall reach the endless rest, 

The eternal Sabbath-day.* 

* The old Latin hymn expresses this well . 

"Ulic nee sabbato 
Succedit sabbatum, 
Perpes Itetitia 
Sabbatizantiuni. 
10* 



114 A pilgrim's song. 

Then, my Lord, prepare 
My soul for that sweet day ; 

O wash me in thy precious blood, 
And take my sins away. 

'Tis but a little while 

And He shall come again, 
Who died that we might Hve, who lives 

That we with Him may reigTi. 
Then, O my Lord, prepare 

My soul for that glad day ; 
O wash me in thy precious blood, 

And take my sins away. 



I 



QUIS SEPARABIT -f ^'^ |f 



'Tis thus they press the hand and paw, 
Thus have they bid farewell again ; 

Yet still they commune, heart with heart, 
Linked by a never-broken chain. 

Still one in hfe and one in death, 
One in their hope of rest above ; 

One in their joy, their trust, their faith, 
One in each other's faithful love. 

Yet must they part, and parting, weep ; 

What else has earth for them in store ? 
These farewell pangs, how sharp and deep. 

These farewell words, how sad and sore ! 

Yet shall they meet again in peace, 
To sing the song of festal joy, 

Where none shall bid their gladness cease, 
And none their fellowship destroy. 



116 QUIS 8EPARABIT. 

Where none sliall beckon tliem away, 
Nor bid tlieir festival be done ;* 

Their meeting-time the eternal day, 
Their meeting-place the eternal throne. 

There, hand in hand, firm linked at last, 
And, heart to heart, enfolded all. 

They '11 smile upon the troubled past. 
And wonder why they wept at all. 

Then let them press the hand and part, 
The dearly loved, the fondly loving, 
■ Still, still in spirit and in heart. 
The undivided, unremoving. 

♦ "Ibi festdvitas sine fine." — Auguetino. 



FAR BETTER. 

SAFE at Lome, where the dark tempter roams Lot, 
How 1 have envied thy far happier lot ! 

Aheady resting where the evil comes not, 
The tear, the toil, the woe, the sin forgot. 

safe in port, where the rough billow breaks not. 
Where the wild sea-moan saddens thee no more ; 

Where the remorseless stroke of tempest shakes not ; — 
When, when shall I too gain that tranquil shore ? 

bright, amid the brightness all eternal. 

When shall I breathe with thee the purer air?— 

Air of a land whose clime is ever vernal, 
A land without a serpent or a snare. 

Away, above the scenes of guilt and folly, 
Beyond this desert's heat and dreariness, 

Safe in the city of the ever-holy. 

Let me make haste to join thy earlier bliss. 



118 FAR BETTER. 

Another battle fought, and ob, not lost — 
Tells of the ending of this light nnd thrall, 

Another ridge of time's lone moorland crossed, 
Gives nearer prospect of the jasper wall. 

Just gone within the veil, where I shall follow, 
Not far before me, hardly out of sight — 

I down beneath thee in this cloudy hollow, 
And thou far up on yonder sunny height. 

Gone to begin a new and happier story, 

Thy bitterer tale of earth now told and done ; 

These outer shadows for that inner glory 
Exchanged for ever. — thrice blessed one I 

freed from fetters of this lonesome prison, 
How I shall greet thee in that day of days. 

When He who died, yea rather who is risen. 
Shall these frail frames from dust and darknesa 
raise. 



WANDERING DOWN. 

I AM wandering down life's shady path, 

'Slowly, slowly, wandering down ; 
I am wandering down life's rugged patb. 
Slowly, slowly, wandering dowD, 

Morn, with its store of buds and dew, 

Lies far behind me now ; 
Morn, with its wealth of song and light, 

Lies far behind me now. 

^T is the mellow flush of sunset now, 
'T is the shadow and the cloud ; 

T is the dimness of the dying eve, 
'T is the shadow and the cloud. 

'Tis the dreamy haze of twilight now, 
'T is the hour of silent trust ; 

'T is the solemn hue of fading skies, 
'T is the time of tranquil trust. 



120 WANDERING DOWN. 

The pleasant heights of breezy life, 
The pleasant heights are past ; 

The sunny slopes of buoyant life, 
The sunny slopes are past. 

I shall rest in yon low valley soon, 

There to sleep my toil away ; 
f shall rest in yon sweet valley sooc. 

There to sleep my tears away. 
• 

One little hour will soothe away 

Time's months of care and pain ; 
One quiet hour will dream away 

Time's years of care and pain. 

Laid side by side with those I love, 

How calm that rest shall be ! 
Laid side by side with those I love, 

How soft that sleep shall be ! 

If 

I shall rise and put on glory 

When the great morn shall dawn ; 

I shall rise and put on beauty 
When the glad mom shall dawn. 



WANDERING DOWN. 121 

I shall mount to yon fair city, 

The dwelling of the blest ; 
I shall enter yon bright city, 

The palace of the blest. 

I shall meet the many parted ones, 

In that one home of joy ; 
Lost love for ever found again, 

In that dear home of joy. 

We have shared our earthly sorrow. 

Each with the other here ; 
We shall share our heavenly gladness, 

Each with the other there. 

We have mingled tears together, 
We shall mingle smiles and song; 

We have mingled sighs together. 
We shall mingle smiles and song, 
11 



THE ROD, 

I WEEP, but do not yield, 
I mourn, yet still rebel ; 

My inmost soul seems steeletJ, 
Cold and immovable. 

The wound is sLarp and deep J 
My spirit bleeds within *, 

And yet I lie asleep, 
And still I sin, I sin. 

My bruised soul compladns 
Of stripes without, within ; 

1 feel these piercing pains — 
Yet still I sin, I sin. 

0*er me the low cloud hung 
Its weight of shade and fear; 

Unmoved I passed along, 
And still my sin is- here. 



I 



THE ROD. 123 



Yon massive mountain-peak 
The lightning rends at will ; 

The rock can melt or break — 
I am unbroken still. 

Mv sky was once noon-bright, 
My day was calm the while, 

I loved the pleasant light, 
The sunshine's happy smile. 

I said, my God, oh, sure, 
This love will kindle mine ; 

Let but this calm endure, 
Then all my heart is thine. 

Alas, I knew it not I — 
The summer flung its gold 

Of sunshine o'er my lot, 
And yet my heart was cold. 

Trust me with prosperous days, 
I said, O spare the rod ; 

Tliee and thy love I '11 praise, 
My gracious, patient God. 



124 THE BOD. 

Mubt I be smitten, Lord ? 

Are gentler measures vain i 
Must I be smitten, Lord ? 

Can nothing save but pain ? 

Thou trustedst me a while ; 

Alas ! I was deceived ; 
I revelled in the smile, 

Yet to the dust I cleaved. 

Then the fierce tempest broke, 
I knew frorh whom it came, 

I read in that sharp stroke 
A father's hand and name. 

And yet I did Thee wrong ; 

Dark thoughts of Thee came in,— 
A fi'oward, selfish throng — 

And I allowed the sin ! 

I did Thee wroug, my God, 
I wronged thy truth and love, 

I fretted at the rod, 

Against thy power I sti'ove. 



a 



THE ROD. 126 



I said, my God, at length, 
This stony heart remove, 

Deny all other strength, 

But give me strength to love. 

Come nearer, nearer still. 
Let not thy light depart ; 

Bend, break this stubborn will. 
Dissolve this iron heart. 

Less wayward let me be, 
More pliable and mild ; 

In glad simplicity 

More like a trustful child. 

Less, less, of self each day, 
And more, my God, of thee ; 

keep me in the way, 
However rough it be. 

Less of the flesh each day, 

Less of the world and sin ; 

More of thy Son I pray, 

More of Thyself within. 
11* 



126 THE ROD. 

Riper and riper now, 

Each hour let me become, 

Less fit for scenes below, 
More fit for such a home. 



More moulded to Thy will. 

Lord, let Thy servant be, 
Higher and higher still, 

Liker and liker thee. 

Leave nought that is unmeet ; 

Of all that is mine own 
Strip me ; and so complete 

My training for the thronee 



STRENGTH BY THE AVAY 

Je6»6, while this rough desert-soil 
I tread, be Thou my guide and stay ; 

Nerve me for conflict and for toil ; 
Uphold me on my stranger-way. 

Jesus, in heaviness and fear, 

'Mid cloud, and shade, and gloom I stray 
For earth's last night is drawing near ; 

O cheer me on my stranger- way. 

Jesus, in solitude and grief, 

When sun and stars withhold their ray, 
Make haste, n^.ake haste to my relief; 

O light me on my stranger-way. 

Jesus, in weakness of this flesh, 

When Satan grasps me for his prey ; 

give me victory afresh ; 

And speed me on my stranger-way. 



128 THE FEAST, 



Jesus, my righteousDess and strength, 
My more than life, my more than day ; 

Bring, bring deliverance at length ; 
O come and end my slranger-way. 



THE FEAST. 



Love strong as death, nay stronger, 
Love mightier than the grave ; 

Broad as the earth, and longer 
Than ocean's widest wave. 

This is the love that sought ns. 

This is the love that bought us. 

This is the love that brouofht us 

To gladdest day from saddest night, 
From deepest shame to glory bright. 
From depths of death to life's fair height, 
From darkness to the joy of light : 

This is the love that leadeth 
Us to his table here, 

This is the love that spreadeth 
For us this royal cheer. 



THE STRANGER SEA-BIRD. 

Far from his breezy Lome of cliff and billow, 

Yon sea-bird folds his wing; 
Upon the tremulous bough of this stream-shading 
willow 

He stays his wandering. 

, Fanned by fresh leaves, and soothed by blossoma 
i. closing, 

His lullaby the stream, 
A stranger, in bewildered loneliness reposing, 

He dreams his ocean-dream : — 

His dream of ocean-haunts, and ocean-brightness, 

The rock, the wave, the foam. 
The blue above, beneath, the sea-cloud's trail of 
whiteness, 

His unforgotten home. 



J 30 THE STRANGER SEA-BIRD. 

^\ii(l he would fly, but cannot, for tlie shadows 

Of night have barred his way ; 
How could he search a path across these woods and 
meadows 

To his far sea-home spray ? 

Dark miles of thicket, swamp, and moorland dreary, 

Forbid his hopeless flight ; 
With plumage soiled, eye dim, heart faint, and wing 
all weary. 

He waits for sun and light.. 



And I, in this far land, a timid stranger, 

Resting by Time's lone stream, 
Lie dreaming, hour by hour, beset witli night and 
danger. 

The Church's Patmos-dream : 

The dream of home possessed, and all home's gladness, 

Beyond these unknown hills, 
Of solace after earth's sore days of stranger-sadness, 

Beside the eternal lills. 



THE STRANGER SEA-BIRD. 131 

Life's exile past, all told its broken story ; 

Night, death, and evil gone ; 
This more than Egypt-shame exchanged for Canaan- 
glory, 

And the bright city won ! 

Come then, O Christ ! earth's Monarch and Redeemer, 

Thy glorious Eden bring. 
Where I, even T, at last, no more a trembling dreamer, 

Shall fold my heavy wing. 



HOPE DEFERRED. 

How oft the morn has cheated us 

As with unsleeping eye, 
We lay upon our silent couch, 

And watched the changing sky. 

How often, as the heavy hours 

Stole by with endless haste, 
We've said, Ah now the dawn begins. 

The weary night is past. 

Hours went and came, but yet no streak 

On eastern cloud or hill. 
We looked in vain, no sign appeared, 

'Tvvas night and silence still. 

Twas but the starlight, not the sun, 
The moonhght, not the day ; 

We thouofht it was the dawn, but now 
That dawn seems far away. 



HOPE DEFERRED. 133 

'Tis thus, beguiled with fond desire, 

And sick with hope deferred, 
The watching Church, with eager ear, 

The well-known cry has heard : — 

" He whom you look for is at hand, 

Both hope and fear are done !" 
No, 'tis not yet, — and still she waits 

The still unrisen sun. 

Age after age, in love and faith. 

She has with longing eye 
Been watching every streak of dawn 

In yon pei-plexing sky. 

And shall she now give up her trust, 

And turn her eye away, 
As if there were no sun for her, 

No hope of light and day? 

She will not, for she knows how sure 

The promise of her Lord ; 

She will not, for she knows how true 

Is the unchanoinff word. 
12 



134 HOPE DEFERRED. 

The morn shall come ; nay lie himself, 
Brighter than morn's best ray, 
' Shall come to bid the night depart, 

And bring at last the day. 

Then shall the weary night-watch cease, 
When, counting each lone hour, 

She marked the shadows flitting by 
The lattice of her tower. 

Twas not in vain she kept the watch 
When all around her slept ; 

'Twas not in vain she waited thus, 
And loved, and longed, and v/ept. 

It dawns at last, the long-loved morn, 
It comes, the meeting-day. 

And in its joys shall be forgot 
The sorrows of delay. 



THE BLANK. 

One flower may fill another's place, 

"With breath as sweet, with hues as glowing ; 
One ripple in yon ocean-space 

Be lost amid another's flowing. 

One star in yon bright azure dome 
May vanish from its sparkling cluster, 

Unmissed, unmourned, and in its room 
Some rival orb eclipse its lustre. 

But who shall fill a brother's room ? 

Or who shall soothe the bosom's grieving ? 
Who heal the heart around his tomb 

Too faithfully, too fondly cleaving? 

Can I supply youth's memories ? 

Or speak the words iu childhood spoken ? 
Can I re-knit the severed ties ? 

Replace, retune the chord once broken ? 



136 THE SLEEP OF THE BELOVED. 

It is not here, it is not now, 

That hearts are knit no more to sever; 
Grief's wrinkles razed from cheek and brow, 

And life's long blanks filled up for ever. 



THE SLEEP OF THE BELOVED 

" So he giveth his beloved sleep," — Psalm cxxviL 2. 

Sunlight has vanished, and the weary earth 
Lies resting from a loog day's toil and pain, 

And, looking for a new dawn's early birth, 
Seeks strength in slumber for its toil again. 

We too would rest ; but ere we close the eye 
Upon the consciousness of waking thought, 

Would calmly turn it to yon star-bright sky, 
And lift the soul to Him who slumbers not. 

Above us is thy hand with tender care, 
Distilling over us the dew of sleep : 



I 



THE SLEEP OF THE BELOVED. 137 

Darkness seems loaded with oblivious air, 
In deep forgetfulness each sense to steep. 

Thou hast provided midnight's hour of peace, 
Thou stretchest over us the wins: of rest ; 

With more than all a parent's tenderness, 
boldest us sleeping to thy gentle breast. 

Grief flies away ; care quits our easy couch. 

Till wakened by thy hand, when breaks the day- 
Like the lone prophet by the angel's touch, — 
We rise to tread again our pilgrim-way. 

God of our life ! God of each day and night ! 

Oh, keep us still till life's short race is run ! 
Until there dawns the long, long day of light, 

That knows no night, yet needs no star nor sim. 
12* 



THE LITTLE FLOCK. 

A LITTLE flock ! So calls He thee, 
Who bought thee with his blood ; 

A little flock — disowned of men, 
But owned ^nd loved of God. 

A little flock ! So calls He thee; 

Church of the first-born, hear ! 
Be not ashamed to own the name ; 

It is no name of fear. 

A little flock! Yes, even so ; 

A handful among men, 
Such is the purpose of thy God ; 

So willeth He ; Amen ! 

Not many rich or noble called, 

Not many great or wise ; 
They whom God makes his kings and priests, 

Are poor in human eyes. 



THE LITTLE FLOCK. 139 

Cliurcli of the everlasting God, 

The Father's gracious choice, 
Amid the voices of this earth 

How feeble is thy voice ! 

Thy words amid the words of earth, 

How noiseless and how low ! 
Amid the hurrying crowds of time. 

Thy steps how calm and slow! 

But 'mid the wrinkled brows of earth 

Thy brow how free from care ; 
'Mid the flushed cheeks of riot here. 

Thy cheek how pale and fair ! 

Amid tlie restless eyes of earth, 

How steadfast is thine eye. 
Fixed on the silent loveliness 

Of the far eastern sky. 

A little flock ! 'Tis well, 'tis well ; 

Such be her lot and name ; 
Tlirough ages past it has been so, 

And now 'tis still the same. 



140 THE LITTLE FLOCK. 

But the cbief Sbeplierd comes at length 

Her feeble days are o'er, 
No more a handful in the earth, 

A httle flock no more. 

No more a h'ly among thorns ; 

Weary, and faint, and few, 
But countless as the stars of heaven, 

Or as the early dew. 

Then entering the eternal balls, 

In robes of victory, 
That mighty multitude shall keep 

The joyous jubilee. 

Unfading palms they bear aloft, 
Unfaltering songs they sing ; 

Unending festival they keep, 
In presence of the King.* 



♦ Twv dyytXuv koI tuv ayiuv del iopTaC'ovruv.—ATBA.' 
NASIUS. 



THE NAME OF NAMES. 

Father, thy Son hath died 

The sinner's death of woe ; 
Stooping in love from heaven to earth, 
Our curse to undergo ; 
Our cui*se to undergo, 

Upon the hateful tree. 
Give glory to thy Son, Lord, 
Put honor on that name of names 
By blessing me ! 

Father, thy Son hath borne 

The sinner's doom of shame ; 
Bearinir his cross without the gate, 
He met the law's full claim ; 
He met the law's full claim, 

Sin's righteous penalty. 
Give glory to thy Son, Lord, 
Put honor on that name of names 
By pardoning me ! 



142 THE NAME OF KAMES. 

Father, tliy Son hath poured 

His life-blood ou tiiis earth, 
To cleanse away our guilt and staine, 
To give us second birth ; 
To give us second birth. 

From sin to set us free. 
Give glory to thy Son, Lord, 
Put honor on that name of names 
By cleansing me ! 

Father, thy Son hath risen, 

Overcoming hell's dark powers ; 
His surety-death was all for us, 
His surety- life is ours ; 
His surety-life is ours. 
Ours, ours eternally. 
Give glory to thy Son, O Lord, 
Put honor on that name of names 
By quickening me ! 

Father, thy Sou to thee 

Is now gone up on high. 
Enthroned in heaven at thy right hand, 

He reigns eternally ; 

He reigns eternally, 



THE KAME OF NAMES. 143 

III might and majesty. 
Give glory to thy Son, O Lord. 
Put honor on that name of names 

By raising me I 

Father, thy Son on earth, 
. No one to own him found, 
fie passed among the sons of men 
Rejected and disowned ; 
Rejected and disowned, 

That we received might be I 
Give glory to thy Son, O Lord, 
Put honor on that name of names 
By owning me ! 

Father, thy Sou is king, 

Heaven's crown and earth's is his ; 
For ns, for ns, he bought the crown, 
For us he earned the bliss ; 
For us he earned the bHss» 

Amen, so let it be ! 
Give glory to thy Son, O Lord, 
Put honor on that name of names 
By crowning me ! 



MINE AND THINE. 



**Didicisti quoi nihil tui boni praecesserat, et gratis Dei 
oonversus es ad Deum," — Augustine. 



All that I was — my sin, my guilty 
My death was all ray own ; 

All that I am, I owe to thee, 
My gracious God alone. 

The evil of my former state 
Was mine and only mine ; 

The good in which I now rejoice 
Is thine and only thine. 

The darkness of my former state, 
The bondage all was mine ; 

The light of life in which I *aik, 
The liberty is thiinj. 



ABIDE IX HIM. 145 

Thy grace first made me feel my sin. 

It tauglit me to believe ; 
Then, in believing peace I found, 

And now I live, I live. 

All that I am, even here on earth, 
, All that I hope to be, 
When Jesus comes and glory dawns, 
I owe it, Lord, to thee. 



ABIDE IN HIM. 

" Tecum volo vulnerari 
Te libenter amplexari 

In cruce desidera" — Old HTiar. 

Cling to the Crucified ! 

His death is life to thee, — 
Life for eternity. 
His pains thy pardon seal ; 
His stripes thy bruises heal ; 
His cross proclaims thy peace, 
• Bids every sorrow cease. 
13 



\ 



146 ABIDE IN HIM, 

His blood is all to thee, 
It purges thee from sin ; 

It sets thy spirit free, 

It keeps thy conscience clears 
Cling to the Crucified I 

Cling to the Crucified! 

His is a heart of love, 

Full as the hearts above ; 

Its depths of sympathy 

Are all awake for thee : 

His countenance is light, , 

Even to the darkest night. 

That love shall never change — 

That light shall ne'er grow dim; 
Charge thou thy faithless heart 
To find its all in him. 

Cling lo the Crucified I 



■ 



THE BELOVED SON. 



" This is my beloved Son, in -whom I am well-pleased."- 
klATT., iil 17. 



It is the Father's voice that cries 
Mid the deep silence of the skies : 
'' This, this is my beloved Sod, 
In Hina I joy, in Him alone. 

" In Him my equal see revealed, 
In Him all righteousness fulfilled, 
In Him, the Lamb, the victim see, 
Bound, bleeding, dying on the tree, 

" And can you fail to love again ? 
Far fairer he than sons of men ! 
His very name is fragrance poured, 
Immanuel, Jesus, Saviour, Lord ! 



s 



148 THE BELOVED SON. 

f "He diod, and iu his dying, proved 

How much, how tkithfully he loved ; 

/At my right hand, his glories shine ; 
Is my beloved, siuaer, thine .^" 

O fiill of glory, full of grace, 
Redeemer of a ruined race, 
\^^^ Beloved of the Father, come, 

* ( Make in these sinful hearts a home I 

Beloved of the Father, thou. 
To whom the saints and angels bow ; 
Immanuel, Jesus, Saviour, come, 
Make in these sinful hearts thy home I 



J 



THE SINBEARER. 



" He was wounded for our tramgressions ; Ho was bruised 
for our iniquities." — Isa,, iil 6. 



Thy works, not mine, Christ, 
Speak gladness to this heart ; 
They tell me all is done ; 
They bid my fear depart. 

To whom save thee, 
Who can alone 
For sin atone, 
Lord, shall I flee ! 

Thy pains, not mine, O Christ, 

Upon the shameful tree, 
Have paid the law's full price, 
And pm'chased peace for me. 

To whom, save thee, etc. 
13* 



^ 



150 THE SINBEARKR. 

\ Thy tears, not mine, Clinst, 

Have wept my guilt away ; 
And turned tliis night of mine 



f 



IP Into a blessed day. 

To whom, save theo, etc 

Thy bonds, not mine, Christ, 
Unbind me of my chaiu, 
^* — And break my piison-doors, 
Ne'er to be barred again. 

To whom, save thee, etc. 

Thy wounds, not mine, Christ, 
Can heal my bruised soul ; 

Thy stripes, not mine, contain 
The balm that makes me whole. 

To w-hom, save thee, etc. 

Thy blood, not mine, O Christ, 
Tliy blood so freely spilt, 

Can blanch my blackest stains 
And purge away my guilt. 

To whom, save thee, etc. 




THE SINBEARER. 151 

Thy cross, not mine, Christ, 

Has borne the awful load 
Of sins that none in heaven 

Or earth could bear but God. 

To uhoni, save thee, etc 

"Thy death, not mine, Christ, 

Has paid the ransom due ; 
Ten thousand deaths like mine, 

Would have been all too few. 

To v.'hom, save thee, etc 

Thy righteousness, O Christ, 

Alone can cover me ; 
No nVhteousness avails 

Save that which is of tliee. 

To whom, save tiiee, etc. 

Thy righteousness alone 

Can clothe and beautify ; 
I wrap it round my soul ; 

In this I'll live and die. 

To whom, save thee, etc. 



\ 



THE SUBSTITUTE. 

' Jesu, plena caritate 
Manus tusB perforatse 

Laxent mea crimina ; 
Latus tuum lanceatum. 
Caput spinis coronatum, 
Hsec sint medicamina." — Old Hymk 

1 LAF my sins on Jesus, 

The spotless Lamb of God ; 
He bears them all and frees us 

From the accursed load. 
I bring my guilt to Jesus, 

To wash my crimson stains 
White in hjs blood most precious, 

Till not a stain remains. 

I lay my wants on Jesus ; 

All fulness dwells in Him. 
He heals all my diseases, 

He doth my soul redeem. 



THE SUBSTITUTE. 163 

I lay my griefs on Jesus, 

My burdens and niy cares ; 
He from them all releases, 

He all my sorrows shares, 

I rest my soul on Jesus, 

This weary soul of raiue ; 
His right hand me embraces, 

I on his breast recline. 
I love the name of Jesus, 

Iramanuel, Chiist, the Lord; 
Like fragrance on the breezes, 

His name abroad is poured. 

I long to 1 e like Jesus, 

Meek, loving, lowly, mild, 
I long to be like Jesus, 

The Father's holy child. 
I long to be with Jesus 

Aniid the heavenly throng. 
To sing with saints his praises, 

To learn the angel's song. 



( 



L 






< 



LOST BUT FOUND 



( " Arte mira, miro cousilio, 

\ Quserens ovem suam summus opillo, 

Ut nos revocaret ab exilio." — Old Hymn. 

I WAS a wanderiiiif slieep, 

I did not love the fold ; 
I did not love my Shepherd's voice, 

I would not be controlled. 
I was a wayward child, 

I did not love my home, 
I did not love my father's voice, 

I loved afar to roam. 

The Shepherd sought his sheep, 
The Father sought his child. 

They followed me o'er vale and hill, 
O'er deserts waste and wild. 

They found me nigh to death, 
Famished, and faint, and lone ; 



LOST BUT FOUND. 155 

Tliey bound me with tlie bands of love ; 

They saved the wauderinc: one ! / 

/ 

They spoke in tender love, v 

They raised ray drooping head : 
They gently closed my bleeding wounds, 

"My fainting soul they fed. 
They washed my filth away, 

They made me clean and fair ; 
They brought me to my home in peace,— 

The long-sought wanderer ! 

Jesus my Shepherd is, 

'Twas lie that loved my soul, 
HTwas He that washed me in his blootl, 

Twas He that made me whole. 
'Twas He that sought the lost. 

That found the wandering sheep, 
Twas He that brought me to the fold, 

'Tis He that still doth keep. 

I was a wandering sheep, 

I would not be controlled : 
But now I love my Shepherd's voice, 

I love, I love the fold ! 




156 THE WOED MADE FLESH. 

I was a wayward cliikl ; 

I once preferred to roam, 
But now I love my Father's voice, — 

I love, I love his home ! 



THE WORD MADE FLESH. 

" Te know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that thougltf 
he was rich, yet for your sakes be became poor, that y* 
through his poverty might be rich." — 2 CoR., viii. 9. 

< 

The Son of God m mighty love, 

Came down to Bethlehem for me ; ^ 

Forsook his throne of light above, 
An infant upon earth to be. 

In love, the Father's sinless child 
Sojourned at Nazareth for me ; 

With sinners dwelt the undefiled, 
The Holy One in Galilee. 

Jesus, whom angel-hosts adore. 
Became a man of griefs for me ; 

lu love, though rich, becoming poor. 
That I through him enriched might be. 



THE WORD MADE FLESH. 157 

Thongli Lord of all, above, below. 

He went to Olivet for me ; 
There drank my cup of wrath and woe, 

When bleeding in Gethsemane. \ 

The ever-blessed son of God 

Went up to Calvary for me ; 
There paid my debt, there bore my load, 

In his jown body on the tree. 

Jesus, whose dwelling is the skies, 
Went down into the grave for me ; 

There overcame my enemies, 
There won the glorious victory. 

In love the whole dark path he trod, 

To consecrate a way for me ; 
Each bitter footstep marked with blood, 

From Bethlehem to Calvary. 

*Tis finished all ; the veil is rent. 

The welcome sure, the access free ;— r 
Now then we leave our banishment, 
, O Father, to return to thee ! 
14 



THE DARKNESS AND THE LIGHT. 

" Ye were sometime darkness, but now ye are light in the 
liord." — Eph., v. 8. 

" Let tliere be light," Jehovah said, 
The beam awoke, the light obeyed ; 
Bursting on chaos dark and wild, 
Till the glad earth and ocean smiled. 

Formless and void, and dark as night, 
My heart remained, till heavenly light, 
Obedient to the word divinef 
On my dark soul began to shine. 

Light broke upon my rayless tomb, 
Tiie day-star rose upon my gloom ; 
And with its gentle new-born ray 
Brightened my darkness into day. 

Glory to Thee by all be given ; — 
Of light the light, in earth and heaven ; 
Of joys the joy, of suns the sun, 
Jesus, the Father's chosen One. • 






THE VOICE FROM GALILEE. ) 

"Of his fulness have all we received, and grace for grace." 
-John, I 16. 

I HEARD the voice of Jesus say, 

Come unto me aud rest ; 
Lay dowu, thou weary one^ lay down 

Thy head upon my breast, 
I came to Jesus as I was, 

Weary, and worn, and sad, 
I found in Him a resting-place, 

And He has made me glad. 

I heard the voice of Jesus say, 

Behold, I freely give 
The livdng water, — thirsty one, 

Stoop down, and drink, and live. 
I came to Jesus aud I drank 

Of that life-giving stream. 
My thirst was quenched, my soul re\'ived, 

And now I live in Him. 



\ 



r 160 BETHLEHEM HYMN. 

/ I heard tlie voice of Jesus say, 

^ I am this dark world's light, 

J Look unto me, thy morn shall rise 

And all thy da}'' be bright. 
I looked to Jesus and I found 
In Him, my Star, my Sun ; 
And in that light of life I'll walk 
Till travelling days are done. 



V 



A BETHLEHEM HYMN. 

" Mundum implens, in proesepio jacens." — Augostinb. 

He has come ! the Chiist of God ; — 
Left for us his glad abode ; 
Stooping from his throne of bliss. 
To this darksome wilderness. 

He has come ! the Prince of Peace ; — 
Come to bid our sorrows cease ; 
Come to scatter, with his light, 
All the shadows of our nio-ht. 






BETHLEHFM HYMN. 161 

I 

He the miglity King- Las come ' % 

Making this poor earth his home * ^ 

Come to bear sin's sad load ; — 
Son of David, Son of God. 

He has come, whose name of grace 
Speaks deliverance to our race ; 
Left for us his glad abode ; 
Son of Mary, Son of God ! 

Unto us a child is born ! 
Ne'er has earth beheld a morn 
Among all the moms of time, 
Half so glorious in its prime. 

Unto us a Son is given ! 
He has come from Go(Jl*8 own heaven ; 
Bringing with him from above, 
Holy peace and holy love. 



\- 



THIS DO IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME. 

Here, my Lord, I see thee face' to face ; 

Here would I touch and handle things unseen ; 
Here grasp with firmer hand the eternal grace, - 

And all my weariness upon Thee lean. 

Here would I feed upon the bread of God ; 

Here drink with Thee the royal wine of heaven ; 
Here would I lay aside each earthly load, 

Here taste afresh the calm of sin forgiven. 

This is the hour of banquet and of song, 
This is the heavealy table spread for me ; 

Here let me feast, and, feasting, still prolong 
The brief bright Lour of fellowship with Thee. 

Too soon we rise ; the symbols disappear : 

The feast, though not the love, is passed and gone. 

The bread and wine remove, but Thou art here, — 
Nearer than ever, — still my Shield and Sun. 



THIS DO IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME. 1G3 

I have no help but thine ; nor do I need 

Another arm save thine to lean uj)on. 
It is enough, my Lord, enough, indeed ; , 

My strength is in thy mio^ht, — thy mio-ht alone, ) 

I have no wisdom, Save in Him who is 

My ■\fisdom and my teacher, both in one ; 
No wisdom can I lack while Thou art wise, 
• No teaching do I crave, save thine alone. 

Mine is the sin, but thine the righteousness ; 

Mine is the guilt, but thine the cleansing blood ; 
Here is my robe, my refuge, and my peace, — 

Thy blood, thy righteousness, Lord my God. 

I know that deadl}^ evils compass me, 

Dark perils threaten, yet I would not fear, 

Nor poorly shrink, nor feebly turn to flee, — 

Thou, O my Christ, art buckler, sword, and spear* 

But see, the Pillar-cloud is rising now. 

And moving onward through the desert-night ; 

It beckons, and I follow, for I know 
It leads me to the heritage of hght. 



\ 



164 CHRTST OUR PEACE. 

Feast after feast thus comes and passes by ; 

Yet, passing, points to the glad feast above, 
Giving sweet foretaste of the festal joy, 

The Lamb's great bridal feast of bliss and love. 



CHRIST OUR PEACE. 

I THOUGHT upon my sins, and I was sad. 

My soul was troubled sore and filled with pain ; 

But then I thought on Jesus and was glad. 
My heavy grief was turned to joy again. 

I thought upon the law, the fiery law, 
Holy, and just, and good in its decree ; 

I looked to Jesus, and in Him I saw 

That law fulfilled, its curse endured for me. 

I thought I saw an angry frowning God 

Sitting as Judge upon the great white throne ; 

My soul was overwhelmed, — then Jesus showed 
His gracious face, and all my drer.d was gor.e. 



CHRIST OUR PEACE. 165 

I saw my sad estate, condemned to die, 

Then terror seized my heart, and dark despair ; 

But when to Calvary I turned ray eye, 

I saw the cross, and read forofiveness there. 

I saw that I was lost, far gone astray, 

No hope of safe return there seemed to be ; 

But then I heard that Jesus was the way, 
A new and living way prepared for me. 

Then in that way, so free, so safe, so sure, 
Sprinkled all o'er with reconciling blood, 

Will I abide, and never v/ander more, 
"Walking along in fellowship with God. 



GOD'S ISRAEL. 

( ** Happy sons of Israel, 

Who in pleasant Canaan dwell ;" 
Happy tliey, but happier we, 
If Jehovah's own we be. 

Happy citizens who wait 
Within Salem's hallowed gate ; 
Happy they, but happier we 
Who the heavenly Salem see. 

Happy sons of Levi there. 
Who within thy house of prayer 
Always stand ; but happier we, 
Day and night still praising Thee. 

For Jerusalem above • 

Is the city that we love; 
Jerusalemffcur home we call, — 
Heavenly mother of us all. 

The first two lines of the above are from tbo old translation 
of the 66th Psalm by George Sandys. 



THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS 

Oppressed with neon-day's scorching heat, 

To yonder cross I flee ; 
Beileath its shelter take my seat ; 

'No shade like this for rae ! 

Beneath that cross clear waters hurst, 

A fountain sparkling free ; 
And there I quench my desert thirst ; 

No spring like this for me I 

A stranger here, I pitch my tent 

Beneath this spreading tree ; 
Here shall my pilgrim life be spent ; 

No home like this for me ! 

For burdened ones a resting-place, 

Beside that cross I see ; 
Here I cast off my w^eariness ; 

No rest like this for me I 



CHILD'S PRAYER. 

" They that seek me early shall fiad me." — Peov., viii. 17 

Holy Father ! hear my cry, 
Holy Saviour ! bend thine ear, 

Holy Spirit ! come thou nigh ; 
Father, Saviour, Spirit, hear. 

Father, save me from my sin, 
Saviour, I thy mercy crave, 

Gracious Spirit, make me clean ; 
Father, Son, and Spirit save. 

Father, let me taste thy love, 
Saviour, fill my soul with peace, 

Spirit, come my heart to move ; 
Father, Son, and Spirit bless. 

Father, Son, and Spirit — thou 
One Jehovah,* shed abroad 

All thy grace within me now ; 
Be my Father and my God, 



CHILD'S MORNING HYMN. 

" He wakeneth morning by morning ; he wakeneth mine 
ear to hear." — Isa., i, 4. 

The morning, the bright and the beautiful morning 

Is up, and the sunshine is all on the wing, 
With its fresh flush of gladness the landscape adorn- 
ing,— 

A gladness which nothing but morning can bring. 
The earth is awaking, the sky and the ocean, 

The river and foiest, the mountain and plain ; 
The city is stirring its living commotion, 

And the pulse of the v/orld is reviving again. 

And we too awake, for our heavenly Father, 

Who soothed us so gently to sleep on his breast, 
And made the soft stillness af evening to gather 

Around us, now calls us again from our rest. 
But ere to our labors and duties rdiurning, 

We hasten to give him the praise that is meet, 
And in solemn devotion, the first hours of morning, 

Our freest and freshest, we lay at his feet. 
15 



170 child's morning hymn. 

Then, happy in heart, not a moment delaying, 

In the breeze of the dawning so pleasant and cool, 
No loitering, no lingering, no trifling, no playing, 

But eager and active, we haste to the school. 
How sweet are its hours that shine o'er us so biightly ; 

How pleasant its lessons, how short seems the day ; 
Its hours are but moments, they fly off so lightly, 

When we are so busy, so cheerful, and gay. 

Then away to the school in the sweet summer morn- 
ing, 
God's blessing upon us, his light on our road ; 

And let all the lessons we daily are learning, 
Be only to bring us more surely to God. 

now, let us haste to our heavenly Father, 
And ere the fair skies of life's dawning be dim, 

Let us come with glad hearts, let us come altogether, 
And the mom of our youth let us hallow to Him. 



TO M. L. B. 

No niofbt descend on tliee : 
O'er thee no shadows come I 

Safe be thy journey through 
This vale of cloud and gloonu 

Daybreak be ever thine ; 

With fresh and rosy hours, 
Calm sunshine of the morn, 

Odors, and dews, and flowers. 

Light dwell in thee, and thou 

Dwell ever in the light ; 
No wrinkle on thy brow, 

Thine eye still blue and bright. 

One long sweet spring be thine, 
With buds still bursting through, 

Fresh blossoms every hour. 
And verdure fair and new. 



1*72 TO M. L. B. 

Peace be thy gentle guest, 
Peace holy and divine ; 

God's blessed sunlight still, 
Upon thy pathway shine. 

His Spirit fill thy soul, 
And cast out every sin, 

His own deep joy impart, 
And make a heaven within. 



THE TWO ERAS OF THE LAND. 

Of old they sung the song of liberty, 

They sung it upon mountain and on plain, 

Till every echo of both land and sea 
Pealed back the song again. 

They poured it on the morning's genial gale, 
It floated out upon the evening's calm, 

And the rich stream-breeze from each frai^rant vale 
Gave back the song in balm. 

The peasant sang it in his straw-roofed cot, 
The noble sang it in his piincely hall, 

Till the vexed land, responding to the note, 
Rose up at freedom's call. 

The blithe bhie morning's newly-wakened ray 

Of cloudless summer coming freshly down, 

Saw chains and bondage, tears and slavery, 

The tyrant's sword and frown. 

]5* 



174 THE TWO ERAS OF THE LAND. 

The iiortliern noonday saw the rising war, 
Like sudden tempest on a wind-swept sea, 

The shout rose upwards to the evening-star, 
The land, the land is free ! 

Amid the oppressor's threats they planted high 

The ancient flag of liberty, 
Tliat banner floats unthreatened to the sky, — 

The Bruce hath set them free ! 

They sung the song of liberty again, 

'Twas a still louder song than that of yore ; 

It went like thunder-notes o'er hill and plain, 
It woke each echoino* shore. 

It woke the heart of age and heedless youth. 
It woke the spirit of the sleeping land, 

It roused them to the voice of holy truth ; 
Who could that voice withstand ? 

Hear ye the truth, and hearing it, obey ; 

Know ye the truth, the truth shall make you free ; 
Love not the midnight, love the lightsome day, 

That light is life and liberty. 



THE TWO ERAS OF THE LAND. l75 

The Free One m;ikes you free ; be breaks tbe rod, 
He bids you lift your beads to sky and sun, 

As freemen of tbe everlastiDg God, 
Kneeliug to Him alone. 

Tbe Free One makes you free ; be slaves to none, 
Priest, prince, or self, in body or in soul ; 

Serve tbou witb all tby strength tby God alone, 
Yield but to His control. 

Tbe True One gives you truth ; a heritage, 
Richer than that which kings may buy or sell. 

For children's children to the farthest aofe ; 
Guard thou that treasure well. 

Round went the message, over rock and plain, 
Like burning words from lips of prophet old, 

Priest, king, and lord opposed tbe voice in vam, 
It would not be controlled. 

Wide o'er the land went forth the new born day. 
Brightening alike the cot, the hall, the throne. 

Long years of darkness vanish at its ray. 
Ages of night have gone. 



176 



The Christ has come, the breaker of all chains, 

The giver of the heavenly liberty ; 
Peace, light, and freedom to these hills and plains !- 

The land, the land is free ! 



MARTYR'S HYMN. 

"The glory of children are their fathers."— Prov., xvii. 6. 

There was gladness in Zion, her standard was flying ^ 
Free o'er her battlements, glorious and gay ; 

All fair as the morning shone forth her adorning. 
And fearful to foes was her godly array. 

There is mourning in Zion, her standard is lying 
Defiled in the dust, to the spoiler a prey ; 

And now there is wailing, an 1 sorrow prevailing. 
For the best of her children are weeded away. 

The good have been taken, their place is forsaken ; 

The man and the maiden, the green and the gi'ey 
The voice of the weepers wail over the sleepers, 

The martyrs of Scotland that now are away ! 



Ill 



The hue of her waters is crimsoned with slaughters, 
The blood of the martyrs has reddened the clay ; 

And dark desolation broods over the nation, 

For the feithful are perished, the good are away ! 

On the mountains of heather they slumber together ; 

On the wastes of the moorland their bodies decay ; 
How sound is their sleeping, how safe is their keeping, 

Though far from their kindred they moulder away. 

Their blessing shall hover, their children to cover. 
Like the cloud of the desert, by night and by day, 

Oh, never to perish, their names let us cherish, 
The martyrs of Scotland that now are away ! 



SURSUM CORDA. 

Go up, go up, my heart, 
Dwell with thy God above ; 

For here thou canst not rest, 
Nor here gWe out thy love. 

Go up, go up, my heart, 
Be not a trifle r here ; 

Ascend above these clouds. 
Dwell in a higher sphere. 

Let not thy love flow out 

To things so soiled and dim , 

Go up to heaven and God, 
Take up thy love to him. 

Waste not thy precious stores 
On creature-love below ; 

To God that wealth belongs, 
On him that wealth bestow. 



THE REST-DAY. l79 

Go up, reluctant heart, 

Take up thy rest above ; 
Arise, earth-clinging thoughts, 

Ascend, my lingering love ! 



THE REST-DAY. 

Hajc dies, in qu4 quies 

Mundo redditur ; 

Tempus euim est, 
Quo resurrexit, qui nos dilexit. 

Gaude, plaude, ama, clama 

Yoce valida, 

Surge, curre, 
Vere quaere Christum istum, 
Corde sorde procul posita. — Old HYMif. 

For thee we long and pray, 
O blessed Sabbath-morn ! 
And all the week we say, 
O ! when wilt thou return ? 
Come, come away, 
Day of glad rest, 
Of days the best, 
Sweet Sabbath-day ! 



18(^ THE REST-DAY. 

Thou tellest us how Christ 
Arose and left the tomb ; 

And all the week we say, 

O ! when will Sabbath come ? 
Come, come away, etc. 

Thou tellest us how we, 

Like him shall leave the tomb ; 

And all the week we say, 
O ! when will Sabbath come ? 
Come, come away, etc. 

Thou tellest of a rest, 
A peaceful happy home, 

Where all the saints are blest ; 
O ! when will Sabbath come ? 
Come, come awav, etc. 



THE INNER CALM. 

Calm me, my God, and keep me calm, 
, While these hot breezes blow, 
Be like the nijrht-dew's coolinor balm 
Upon earth's fevered brow. 

Calm me, my Gcd, and keep me calm, 

Soft resting on thy breast. 
Soothe me with holy hymn and psalm 

And bid my spirit rest. 

Calm me, my God, and keep me calm. 

Let thine outstretched wing 
Be like the shade of Elim's palm, 

Beside her desert spring. 

Yes, keep me calm, though loud and rude 
The sounds my ear that greet 

Calm in the closet's solitude. 
Calm In the bustlino; street. 
16 



182 THE INNER CALM. 

Calm in tlie hour of buoyant health, 

Calm in my hour of pain, 
Calm in my poverty or wealth, 

Calm in my loss or gain. 

Calm in the sufferance of wrong, 
Like Him who bore my shame, 

Calm 'mid the threatening, taunting throng, 
Who hate thy holy name. 

Calm when the great world's news with power 

My listening spirit stir • 
Let not the tidings of the hour 

E'er find too fond an ear. 

Calm as the ray of sun or sta,r 

Which storms assail in vain. 
Moving unruffled through earth's war, 

Tl e eternal calm to gain. 



THE DISBURDENING 

Lay down thy burden here ; 
- With such a weaiy load 
Thou canst not climb yon hill, 
Yon steep and rugged road. 

'Tis rough, and wild, and high, 
Thickets and rocks impede ; 

Scant resting-place between. 
How canst thou upward speed f 

Lay down thy burden here. 
Poor weary son of time ; 

So shall thy limbs be strong, — ■ 
So shalt thou upward climb. 

The sun is hot, no cloud 

To shield thee from his ray; 

It scorches up thy strength. 
Stay now, poor climber, stay. 



184 THE DISBURDENING. 

Tliou breathest hard, the drops 
Are on thy burning brow ; 

Try not another step, 

Lay down thy burden now. 

So shalt thou climb yon hill, 
Up to its steepest height ; 

Like eagle of the rock. 
With easy joyful flight. 

So shalt thou bear the toils 
Thy God appoints to thee ; 

So shalt thou serve thy Grod 
In happy liberty. 



COMPANIONSHIP. 

Not witli the Yig-ht and vain, 

The man of idle feet and wanton eyes ; 

Not with the world's gay, ever-smiling train ; 
My lot be with the grave and wise. 

Not with the trifle r gay, 

To whom life seems but sunshine on the wave, 
Not with the empty idler of the day ; 

My lot be with the wise and grave. 

Not with the jesting fool, 

Who knows not what to sober truth is due, 
"Whose words fly out without or aim or rule ! 

My lot bo with the wise and true. 

Not with the man of dreams, 

In whose bright words no truth nor wisdom lies, 
Dazzling the fervent youth with mystic gleams ; 

My lot be with the simply wise. 
16* 



186 THE HEAVENLY SOWING. 

Witli tliem I 'd walk each day, 

From them time's solemn lessons would I learn ; 

That false from true, and true from false I may- 
Each hour more patiently discern. 



THE HEAVENLY SOWING, 

Sower divine ! 

Sow the good seed in me, 
Seed for eternity. 
'Tis a rough barren soil, 
Yet by thy care and toil. 
Make it a fruitful field 
An hundred fold to yield. 

Sower divine, 

Plough up this heart of mine ! 

Sower divine ! 

Quit not this wretched field 
Till thou hast made it yield ; 
Sow thou by day and uight^ 
In darkness and in light. 



THE HEAVENLY SOWING. 187 

Stay not thy Land, but sow; 

Then shall the harvest grow. 
Sower divine, 
Sow deep this heart of mine ! 

Sower diviae! 

Let not this baiTen clay 

Lead thee to turn away ; 

Let not my fruitlessness 

Provoke thee not to bless ^ 

Let not this field be dry, 

Refresh it from on high. 
Sower divine, 
Water this heart of min€ ! 



DISAPPOINTMENT. 

" Eocc mundus turbat et amatur, quid si tranquillus esset" 
— Augustine. 

Trust not these seas aorain, 

Tho' smooth and fair ; 
Trust not these waves again, 

Shipwreck is there. 

Trust not these stars again, 

Tho' brioflit and fair ; 
Trust not these skies again. 

Tempest is there. 

Trust not that breeze again, 

Gentle and fair ; 
Trust not these clouds again, 

Lio-htnin^- is there. 

Trust not that isle agaiu, 

Flower-crowned and fair; 
Trust not its rocks again, 

Earthquake is there. 



DISAPPOINTMENT, 189 

Trust not tbese flowers again, 

Fraofrant and fair ; 
Trust not that rose again, 

Blighting is there. 

Trust not that earth again, 

Verdant and fair ; 
Trust not its fields again, 

Winter is there. 

Trust not these hopes again, 

Sunny and fair ; 
Trust not that smile again, 

Peril is there. 

Trust not this world again, 

Smiling and fair ; 
Trust not its sweets again, 

"Wormwood is there. 

Trust not its love ajjain. 

Sparkling and fair ; 
Trust not its joy again. 

Sorrow is there. 



THE TIME TO MEET, 

'T IS autumn now ; 

And as we part, 

The dry brown leaf 

Is rustling o'er the ground ; 
Making the sadness sadder, and the cloud 
Of the long farewell deeper in its gloom. 

Not thus let us meet ; 
Mid falling leaves 
And sere, frost-stricken flowers ; 
But when the leaf is budding in its freshness, 
And the rich blossom putting forth its gladnesE, 

Not thus let us meet ; 
It is too sad ; 

But when the buried verdure 
Is coming up to meet the joyous sun, 
When the new spi-ing looks round upon the hills, 
Full of youth's buoyant promise and bright song, 

Then let us meet. 



THE TIME TO MEET. 191 

Yes, when the spring-breeze blows, 

And the gay garden blooms, i 

And the wide forest waves with budding green, 

And the freed streamlet warbles through the broom. 

And the clear air takes up the happy note 

Of skylark singing to the rosy dawn. 

Then let us meet ; 
And meeting, cheer each other's weary heart 
With the dear hope of everlasting spring, 
And the fair land that spreads beneath the slopes 

Of the eternal hills, 

Where nothing dies ; 

Where nothing fades ; 
But all is without ending or decay, 

The sky, the sun, the light, 

The peace, the truth, the love, 
And above all, the joy I 



GONE BEFORE. 

Thou art in heaven, and I am still on earth; 
'Tis years, long years, since we were parted here, 
I still a wanderer amid grief and fear, 
And thou the tenant of a brighter sphere. 

Yet still thou seemest near ; 

But yesterday it seems, 

Since the last clasp was given, 

Since our lips met, 

And our eyes looked into each other's depths. 



Thou art amid tlie deathless, I still here. 
Amid things mortal, in a land of graves, 
A land o'er which the heavy-beating waves 
Of changing time move on, a land where raves 

The storm, which whoso braves 

Must have his anchor fixed 

Firmly within the vail ; — 

So let my anchor be ; 

Such be my consolation and my hope ! 



GONE BEFORE. 193 

Thou art amid the sorrowless, I here 
Amid the sorrowing ; and yet not long 
Shall I remain 'mid sin, and fear, and wrong : 
Soon shall I join you in your sinless song. 

Thy day has come, not gone, 

Thy sun has risen, not set. 

Thy life is now beyond 

The reach of death or change ; 

Not ended but begun. 

Such shall our life be soon. 

And then, — the meeting-day, 

How full of light and joy ! 

All fear of change cast out, 

All shadows passed away, 

The union sealed for ever 

Between us and our Lord. 
17 



THE ELDER BROTHEK. 

Yes, for me, for me lie careth 
With a brother's tender care ; 

Yes, with me, with me he shareth 
Every burden, every fear. 

Yes, o'er me, o'er me he -watcheth, 
Ceaseless watcheth, riiglit and day : 

Yes, even me, even me he snatcheth 
From the perils of the way. 

Yes, for me he standeth pleading, 
At the mercy-seat above ; 

Ever for me interceding, 
Constant in untiring love. 

Yes, in me abroad he sheddeth 
Joys unearthly, — love and light ; 

And to cover me he spreadeth 
His paternal wing of might. 



TRE ELDER BROTHER. 196 

Yes, in me, in me he dwelleih ; — 

I in him, and he in me ! 
And my empty soul he fiUeth, 

Here and through eternity. 

Thus I wait for his returning, 
Singing all the way to heaven ; 

Such the joyful song of morning, 
Such the tranquil song of even. 



LIFE FROM THE DEAD 

Spirit of everlasting grace, 

Infinite source of life, come down, 

These tombs unlock, these dead upraise, 
Thy glorious power and love make knovriix 

Breathe o'er this valley of the dead, 

Send forth thy quickening might abroad, 

Till, rising from their tombs, they spread, 
In full array, — the host of God ! 

Thy heritage lies desolate. 

And all thy pleasant places mourn ; 
O look upon our low estate. 

In loving kindness, Lord, return ! 

Now let thy glory be revealed. 

Now let thy presence with us rest ; — 

O heal us, and we shall be healed ! 
O bless us, and we shall be blest 1 



I 



EVER NEAR. 

I CLOSE my heavy eye, — 

Saviour ever near ! 
I lift my soul on liigli 

Through the darkness drear. 
Be thou my light, I cry, 

Saviour ever dear ! 

I feel thine arms around, 

Saviour, ever near ! 
With thee let me be found, 

So shall I never fear, 
Whatever ill abounds ; — 

Saviour, ever dear ! 

Thine is the day and night, 

Saviour, ever near ; 
Thine is the dark and light, — 

Be thou my covert here ; 
O shield me with thy might, 

Saviour, ever dear ! 
17* 



198 IT IS FINISHED. 

And wlien I come to die, 
Saviour, ever near, 

Receive my parting sigh : 
And, in the hour of fear, 

Be to my spirit nigh, 
Saviour, ever dear ! 



IT IS FINISHED. 

Blessed be God, our God ! 

Who gave for us his weil-beloved Son, 
His gift of gifts, all other gifts in one. 

Blessed be God, our God ! 

What will he not bestow ? 

Who freely gave this mighty gift, unbought, 
Unmerited, unheeded and unsought. 

What will he not bestow ? 

He spared not His Son ! 

'Tis this that silences each rising feai, 

'Tis this that bids the hard thought disappear 

He spared not His Son ! 



IT IS FINISHED. 199 

Who sliall condemn us now ? 

Since Christ has died, and risen, and gone above, 
For us to plead at the right hand of love, 

Who shall condemn us now ? 

*Tis God that justifies ! 

Who shall recall the pardon or the grace. 
Or who the broken chain of guilt replace ? 

'Tis God that justifies ! 

The victory is ours ! 

For us in might came forth the One, 

For us he fought the fight, the triumph won ; 

The victory is ours ! 



PRESS ON. 

Be brave, my brother ! 

Fight the good fight of faith 

"With weapons proved and true ; 
Be faithful and unshrinking to the deatli, 

Thy God will bear thee through ; 
Tlie strife is terrible, 

Yet ^tis not, 'tis not lono- • 
The foe is not invincible, 

Though fierce and strong. 

Be brave, my brother ! 
The recompense is great. 

The kingdom bright and fair ; 
Beyond the glory of all earthly state, 

Shall be the o-lorv there. 
Grudge not the heavy cost, 

Faint not at labor here, 
'Tis but a life-time at the most, 

The day of rest is near. 



PRESS 02?. 201 

Be brave, my brotLer ! 

He, whom tbon servest, slights 

Not even his weakest one ; 
No deed, though poor, shall be forgot, 
However feebly done. « 

- The prayer, the wish, the thought. 
The faintly spoken word, 
The plan that seemed to come to nought, 
Each has its own reward. 

Be brave, my brother ! 

Enlarge thy heart and soul ; 

Spread out thy free glad love, 
Encompass earth, embrace the sea, 

As does that sky above. 
Let no man see thee stand 

In slothful idleness. 
As if there were no work for thee 

In such a wilderness. 

Be brave, my brotlier ! 
Stint not the liberal hand, 

Give in the joy of love ; 
So shall thy crown be bright, and great 

Thy recompense above ; 



202 LAUS DEO. 

Reward, — not like the deed, 
That poor weak deed of thine ; 

But like the God himself who gives, 
Eternal and divine. 



LAUS DEO. 



Everlasting- praises 

To the Father be ! 
Everlasting praises 

To the Saviour be ! 
Everlasting praises 

To the Spirit be ! 
Everlasting praises 

To the blessed Trinity ! 

Everlasting praises 

For the Father's love 1 
Everlasting praises 

For the Saviour's love I • 
Everlasting praises 

For the Spirit's love ! 
Everlasting praises 

To the Three-One God of love 



CREATION. 

In the beginning was the THE WORD ; 

The Word was God. 
In the beginning was the Word ; 
And His abode 

From everlasting was with God. 
His name 
I AM — 
Jehovah, God, the Lord. 
Ever to be adored ; 
The eternal Son, — 
The ever-blessed One. 
From all, to all eternity, 
The brightness of the eternal Father's glory He! 

Creator of the heaven and earth, 

Their Lord and King. 
Creator of the heaven and earth, 

The angels sing I 



204 CREATION. 

To him all praise and glory bring; 
His power 
Adore, 
From wliicli all things had birth, 
By which they still stand forth 
In beauty glad, 
With heavenly radiance clad. 
Praise, praise His ever-flowing love, 
That brightens all below, and gladdens all above. 



" Let there be light," 'twas He that spoke, 

" And there was light," 
" Let there be light," 'twas He that spoke. 
And the lono- nio-ht 
At His divine command took flio-ht. 
The ray 
Of day 
O'er the deep darkness broke ; 
The sleeping world awoke : 
Earth, sea, and sky 
Burst forth in praises high 
To Him who made the lio-ht to be : 
He is the Light of light, and there is none but He 



CREATION. 20o 

This gi'eeu, glad, goodly earth of ours 

Ilis hand did frame. 
This green, glad, goodly earth of ours 
Doth still proclaim, 

By day and night, His wondrous name. 
These seas 
Are His ; 
Each mountain-peak that towers ; 
These clouds with their fresh showers ; 
These streams that run 
Quick-glancing in the sun, 
These tossing woods, these trembling flowers, 
And all that men call bright in this bright world of 
ours. 

All that has life and breath He made, 

In earlh, sea, sky. 
AH that has life and breath He made. 
To swim or fly. 
To creep or bound ; and, in his eye, 
All good 
They stood, 
In beauty pure arrayed, 
As if they could not fade. 
18 



206 CREATION. 

How fair this frame, 

How excellent His name, 
Wlio, in tbe fulness of His love. 
Transplanted thus to earth the Paradise above I 

All glory to the eternal WORD, 

Earth's Lord and King : 
All glory to the eternal Word, 
Ye anofels, siuir- 

Ye SODS of earth your tribute bring: 
His name, 
Proclaim, — 
Jehovah, God, the Lord ; 
Ever to be adored. 
Maker of all. 

Before him prostrate fall : 
By every voice, and tribe, and tongue. 
For ever and for ever be His praises sung. 



DESERT LILIES. 

Desert lilies, desert lilies ! 

Blooming gaily in the sand 

Of this untrodden land ; 

With your leaf as soft and green, 

With your flower as fair in tint, 

As delicate in form 

As beautiful in hue, 

As fragrant and as fresh, 

As sweet at morn or even, 

As bright with smiles and dew, 

As in our happier plains 

Cherished by genial rains. 

Desert lilies, desert lilies ! 

Shining quietly like gems. 

Upon your verdant stems ; 

With no breath of man to dim you, 
With no city smoke to taint you, 
With no hand of man to pluck you, 



208 DESERT LILIES. 

With no eye of man to see you, 
With no care of man to tend you, 
With no child's ghid fact? to watch you, 
As you spring and as you bloom ; 
With no sorrowing lip to mourn you, 
As you fade and as you die. 

Nouofht but the wind's caress 

In this lone wilderness ! 

Desert lilies, desert lihes ! 

Bidding welcome to the ray 

Of this fierce-flaming day, 

Courting no cloud, nor shade 

Of rock, or clifr, or glade, 

Opening your pui*ple eyes 

Unfearing to these skies. 

What sunlight ye have seen, 
What moonshine in these heavens, 
What starlight clear and glad. 
What soft dew at early dawn. 
What cool breezes o'er this waste ! 
What sunsets ye have seen. 
On these wondrous peaks around, 
What tints of purple glow. 



DESERT ULIES. 209 

At sunset or at luorn ? 
What strange and solemn airs 
Have ye heard, as all night long 
Ye listened, night by night. 
Coming forth from yon wild crags, 
Mo\nng out along these slopes, 
' Stealing down yon" mighty hill 
To the silent sands beneatl), 
Creeping through the wiry boughs, 
Of these tarfas far and near. 
O life, how glad and blest, 
Thou seem^st in such a waste ! 
beauty, what a power. 
To cheer in loneliest hour ! 
O earth where is the spot, 
Which thy God visits not ? 
On which his eye of light 

Rests not in jjentle love ; 
O'er its most barren sands, 

Rejoicing from above ! 
O desert rocks, if one small leaf 

Can make these wastes look fair. 
What will ye be when these scorched plains, 
Earth's richest buds shall bear ? 
18^= 



210 SUMMER GLADNESS. 

When eastern suns sliall cease to scorch 
And storms no more destroy ; 

And these lone valleys shall give forth 
Their streams, and flowers, and joy. 



SUMMER GLADNESS. 

What a world with all its sorrows ! 

What a scene, would it but stay ; 
What an earth, if all its morrows 

Were as fair as this " to-day !" 

When earth's summer pulse is beating 
With the fever-fire of June, 

And the flowers fling up their greeting, 
Quivering to the joyous noon. 

When the streamlet, smiling gladly, 
Hunies calmly, brightly by, 

Not a voice around speaks sadly, 
Not a murmur nor a sigh. 



SUMMER GLADNESS. 211 

Sunbeams with their fond caresses, 
• Smooth each rosebud^s velvet fold, 
Lingering in the glowing tresses 
Of yon rich laburnum's gold. 

Nature all its gay adoraing 

Opens to the day's bright bliss, 
Like a child at early morning, 

Wakened by its mother's kiss. 

What a world ! when all its sorrow 

Shall for ever pass away ! 
What an earth ! when each " to-morrow" 

Shall be fairer than " to-day.** 



THE FRIEND. 

There is a star in yonder sky, 
Above all stars it seems to shine, 

'Tis long since first it fixed my eye, 
And I have learned to call it mine. 

It rose out of my own blue sea, 

Then passed above those mountains green, 
Moving all placidly, 

As if it loved to watcli the scene. 

Far up tlie heavens it floated slow. 
Gleaming across yon solemn tower. 

As if it loved the scene below ; — 
A willinor liufyerer hour bv hour. 

It seemed to take its place each night, 

As sentinel to guard my rest, 
An eye of love and gentle light, 

Pouiinof sweet thoufjhts into mv breast. 



TH3 FRIEND. 213 

In through my hittice as I lay 

Half soothed to sleep, it nightly shone, 

And as I gazed upon its ray 
I felt that I was not alone. 

What tears that gentle star has dried, 
'What joy that sparkling orb has given ; 

Thoughts for this earth too high, too wide, 
Dreams of its own all-radiant heaven. 

It spoke of day beyond this night, 
In the glad land where all is fair ; 

It pointed to the home of light, 
And bid me rest my spirit there. 

It spoke of Him whose love is light, 

Whose death is life, whose cross is peace, 

Whose favor is the star of night, 

The source and pledge of endless bliss. 

May I not love that star on high ? 

May not its light the fairest seem ? 
May I not trace a loving eye, 

A kindly smile in every beam ? 



THE BLANK. 



The flowers of Spring have come and gone ; 

Bright were the blossoms, brief their stay ; 
They shone, and they were shone upon, 

They flourished, faded, passed away. 
So hidden from our sorrowing eyes, 
Our young, sw^eet, spring-bloom buried lies ; 
One blast of earth swept o'er the flower, 
It died, the blossom of an hour. 



The Summer flowers are freshly blowing 

Beneath glad July's genial morn ; 
Like smiles the face of earth bestrewing, 

For fragi'ance and for beauty born ; 
My summer-flower has passed away, 
'Tis now a blank, where all was gay ; 
A blank, where at each evening's close, 
I hoped to watch my budding rose. 



THE BLANK. 215 

Soon Autumn, with overflowing measure, 
Will hang upon each bending tree 

The clusters of its golden treasure, 
The life of earth's vast family. 

Alas, in one disastrous hour, 

From mj green vine has fallen the flower ; 

A blighted hue its branches wear, 

My autumn tree looks cold and bare. 

And Winter, with its blast wide-roaming, 

In cloud and darkness shall corae forth ; 
Beneath its grave of snow entombing 

The various verdure of the earth. 
But my sweet blossom, safely laid, 
Beneath yon cloister's solemn shade, 
In gentle undisturbed repose, 
Shall sleep in winter's grave of snows. 



CHOOSE WELL. 

quam dulce, quam jucundum 
Erit tunc odisse mundum, 
Et quam triste, quam amarum 
Munium habuisse carum. — Old HYJiir, 

O DEAD in sin ! 

Wilt thou still choose to die 
The death of deaths eternallj I 
Dost thou not feel the ffloora 
Of the eternal tomb ? 

O dead to life I 

Wilt thou the life from heaven 
Reject? the life so freely given ; 
Wilt thou choose sin and tears 
Through everlasting years ? 

O dead to Christ ! 

Wilt thou despise the^love 

Of Him who stooped from joy abov©, 

To shame on earth for thee, 

That he might set thee free ? 



T WAS I THAT DID IT. 217 

O dead to God ! 

Wilt thou not seek his face ? 

Wilt thou not turn and own the grace ! 

Wilt thou not take the heaven, 

So freely to thee given ? 



'TWAS I THAT DID IT. 

I BEE the crowd in Pilate's hall, 

I mark their wrathful mien ; 
Their shouts of " crucify" appall, 

With blasphemy between. 

And of that shouting multitude 

I feel that I am one ; 
And in that din of voices nide, 

I recognise my own. 

I see the scourges tear his back, 

I see the piercing crown, 
And of that crowd who smote and mock, 

I feel that I am one, 
19 



218 



Around yon cross, the throng I see, 
MockiDg the sufferer's groan, 

Yet still my voice it seems to be,— 
As if I mocked alone. 

'Twas I that shed the sacred blood, 

I nailed him to the tree, 
I crucified the Christ of God, 

I joined the mockery. 

Yet not the less that blood avails, 

To cleanse away my sin, 
And not the less that cross prevails 

To fifive me peace within. 



THE USEFUL LIFE. 



'ivxi] liov, ipvxJ? fiov, 
'Avaora, rl Kadevdetg. 

Old Geeek Hymn. 



Go labor on ; spend, and be spent, — 
Thy joy to do the Father's will ; 

It is the way the Master went, 

Should not the servant tread it still ? 



Go labor on ; 'tis not for nought ; 

Thy earthly loss is heavenly gain ; 
Men heed thee, love thee, praise thee not ; 

The Master praises, — what are men ? 

Go labor on ; enough, while here, 
If He shall praise thee, if he deign 

Thy willing heart to mark and cheer ; 
No toil for Him shall be in vain. 



220 THE USEFUL LIFE. 

Go labor on ; your hands are weak, 

Your knees are faint, your soul cast down , 

Yet falter not ; the prize you seek, 
Is near, — a kingdom and a crown ! 

Go labor on, while it is day, 

The world's dark night is hastening on ; 
Speed, speed thy work, cast sloth away : 

It is not thus that souls are won. 

Men die in darkness at your side, 
Without a hope to cheer the tomb ; 

Take up the torch and wave it wide, 

The torch that lights time's thickest gloom. 

Toil on, faint not, keep watch and pray ; 

Be wise the errino- soul to win ; 
Go forth into the world's highway, 

Compel the wanderer to come in. 

Toil on, and in thy toil rejoice ; 

For toil comes rest, for exile home ; 
Soon shalt thou hear the Bridegroom's voice, 

The midnight peal, behold I come 1 



PASSING THROUGH. 

I WALK as one who knows that be is treadins: 

A strano^er soil ; 
As one round whom a seipent-world is spreading 

Its subtle coil. 

I walk as one but yesterday delivered 

From a sharp chain ; 
Who trembles lest the bond so newly severed 

Be bound again. 

I walk as one wlio feels that he is breathing 

Unofenial air ; 
For whom as wiles, the tempter still is wreathing 

The bright and fair. 

My steps, [ know, are on the plains of danger, 

For sin is near ; 
Bat looking up, I pass along, a stranger, 

In haste and fear. 
19* 



222 PASSING THROUGH. 

This earth has lost its power to drag me downward ; 

Its spell is gone ; 
My course is now right upward, and right onward, 

To yonder throne. 

Hour after hour of time's dark night is stealhig 

In gloom away; 
Speed thy fair dawn of light, and joy, and healing, 

Thou Star of day ! 

For thee its God, its King, the long-rejected, 
Earth groans and cries ; 

For thee the long-beloved, the long-expected, 
Thy bride still sighs ! 



FORWARD. 

Shall this life of mine be wasted? 
" Shall this vineyard lie un tilled ? 
Shall true joy pass by untasted, 
And this soul remain unfilled? 

Shall the God-given hours be scattered. 
Like the leaves upon the plain ? - 

Shall the blossoms die un watered 
By the drops of heavenly rain ? 

Shall I see each fair sun waking, 
And not feel, it wakes for me? 

Each glad morning brightly breaking 
And not feel, it breaks for me ? 

Shall I see the roses blowing, 
And not wish to bloom as they ? 

Holy fragrance round me throwing, 
Luring others on the way. 



224 FORWARD. 

Shall I hear the free bird siuging 
In the summer's stainless sky, 

Far aloft its glad flight winging, 
And not seek to soar as liio^h ? 

Shall this heart still spend its treasures 
On the things that fade and die ; 

Shall it court the hollow pleasures 
Of bewildering vanity ? 

Shall these lips of mine be idle ; 

Shall I open them in vain ? 
Shall I not with God's own bridle 

Their frivolities restrain ? 

Shall these eyes of mine still wander ?— 
Or, no longer turned afar, 

Fix a firmer gaze and fonder 

On the bright and morning Star ? 

Shall these feet of mine, delaying, 
Still in ways of sin be found, 

Braving snares and madly straying 
On the world's bewitching ground ? 



FORWARD. 225 



No, I was not born to trifle 
Life away in dreams or sin ! 

Noj I must not, dare not stifle 
Lono'infrs sucli as these within ! 



*C3 &■ 



Swiftly moving, upward, onward, 
Let my soul in faith be borne ; 

Calmly gazing, skyward, sunward. 
Let my eye unshrinking turn ! 

Where the Cross, God's love revealing, 
Sets the fettered spirit free, 

Where it sheds its wondrous healing, 
There, my soul, thy rest shall be ! 

Then no longer idly dreaming 
Shall I fling my years away ; 

Bit, each precious hour redeeming, 
Wait for the eternal day ! 



NOTHING BETWEEN. 

Fondly, fondly returneth the daylight 

To the old hill's grey peak ere the dawn has hegun ; 
Slowly, slowly recedeth the daylight 

From the old hill's grey peak when the long day is 
done. 

Softly, softly returneth the ripple 

To its rest on the sand of yon greon-marg-ined bay, 
Sadly, sadly recedeth the ripple 

To mingle again with the sea's dinfting spray. 

Gladly, gladly the dew of the twilight 

Floats up to the rainbow at blush of the dawn, 

Slowly, slowly the dew of the twilight, 

Seeks the dark sod again when the sun is with- 
drawn. 

It is thus, even thus, that the sunlight of heaven, 
Returns and retires with the morn and the even ; 



NOTHING BETWEEN. 227 

ITius slowly retiriDg as sleep seals the eye, 
Returning at day-spring with joy from on high. 
Night's last gleam and truest, my God's gracious love, 
Morn's first beam and fondest, his joy from above. 

Yet, 'tis not night alone that comes between 
My God and me, to mar the peaceful scene ; 
But the world's blazing day, liour after hour, 
Beats on my head, and with its scorching power 
Dries up my dew and sap, nay dims my eye 
With its bewildering blaze of vanity. 
Then comes the quiet and the cool of night, 
To give me back the calm, of which the light 
Of this gay world had sought me to bereave. 
O gentle shadows of the tranquil eve ! 
Eve with thy stillness and soul-soothing balm, 
What do I owe thee for thy solemn calm ! 
Thou comest down hke some peace-bringing dove, 
To soothe and cheer me witli thy silent love. 



FOLLOW THOU ME. 

Restore to me the freshness of iny youth, 
And give me back my soul's keen edge ngain, 

That time has blunted ! O, my early truth, — 
Shall I not you regain ? 

Ah, mine has been a wasted life at best, 

All unreality and long unrest ; 
Yes, I have lived in vain ! 

But now no more in vain ; — my soul, awake, 

Shake off the snare, untwist the fastening chain : 

Arise, go forth, the selfish slumber break. 
Thy idle dreams restrain ! 

Still half thy life before thee lies untrod, 

Live foi' the endless living, live for God ! — 
I must not live in vain ! 

My God ! the way is rough and sad the night, 

And my soul faints and breathes this weeping strain, 

And the world hates me with its bitterest spite, — 
For I have left its train. 



FOLLOW THOU ME. 229 

With thee and with thy saints to cast tny lot : 
Ah, my dear Lord, let me not be forgot, 
Let me not live in vain ! 

Can we not part in silence, smoe for ever, 

This world and I? From scorn and taunt refrain? 

Mustrit still hate and wound ? still stir the fever 
Of this poor throbbing brain ? 

Ah, yes, it must be so, ray God, my God ; 

'Tis the true discipline, the needed rod, 
Else I should live in vain ! 

The foe is strong, — his venomed rage I dread, 
Yet, O my God, do thou his wrath restrain ; 

Shield me in battle, soothe my aching head 
In the sharp hour of pain : 

But more than this, oh give me toiling faith, 

Large-hearted love, and zeal unto the death : 
Let me not live in vain. 

Restore to me the freshness of my youth, 

And give me back my soul's keen edge again : 

Ah, let my spring return ! bright hope and truth 
Shall I not you regain ? 
20 



230 VANITY. 

No wasted life, my God, shall mine now be, 
Hours, days, and years filled up with toil for thee : 
I shall not live in vain ! 



VANITY. 

Tc d7t.T]6uc u} ada ovk Igtiv iv ttj Kar-qpaiievri ytj . — OrigES 

Nay 'tis not that we fancied it, 

This magic world of ours ; 
We thought its skies were only blue, 

Its fields all sun and flowers. 

Its streams all summer-bright and glad, 

Its seas all smiles and calms, 
Its path fi'om youth to age, one long 

Green avenue of palms. 

But clouds came up with glooora and shade 

Our sky was overcast. 
The hot mist threw its blight around. 

Sunshine and flowers went past. 



VANITY. 231 

Hopes perislaed, that Lad hung like wreaths 

Around youtli's buoyant brow, 
And joys, like withered auturan leaves, 

Dropped ficni tiie shaken bough. 

Yet from these clouds comes forth the light, — • 

Light beaming from on high ; 
And from these faded flowers spring up 

The flowers that can not die. 

Far fairer is the land we seek, 

A land without a tomb. 
An everlasting resting-place, 

A sure and quiet home. 

Far sunnier than the hills of time 

Are its et-emal hills ; 
Far fresher than the rills of earth 

Are its eternal rills. 

No blight can fall upon its flowers, 

No darkness fill its air, 
It has a day forever brigbt. 

For Christ, its sun, is there. 



232 MACHPELAH. 

Sun of love and peace, ainse, 
Thy light upon us beam ; 

For all this life is but a sleep, 
And all this world a dream. 



MACHPELAH. 

Only a tomb, no more ! 

A rock-hewn sei:)ulchro, 
And this, and this is all that's thine, 

Fair Canaan's mighty heir! 

Only a tomb, no more ! 

A future resting-place, 
When God shall lay thee down, and bid 

All thy long wanderings cease. 

This cave and field,— -no more, — 
Canst thou thy dwelling call ; 

That land of thine, — plains, hills, woods, 
streams, — 
The stranirer has it all ! 



MACHPELAH. 233 

Til J altar and thy tent 

Are all that thou hast here : 
With these content, thou passest on, 

A homeless wanderer. 

Thy life unrest and toil ; 

Thy course a pilgrimage ; 
Only in death thou goest do\Mi, 

To claim thy heritage ; — 

A heritage which death 

Shall seal to thee for aye, 
A resurrection-heritage 

When all things pass away. 

A home of endless peace, 

Beyond these hills of strife ; 
When these old rocks give up their dead, 

And death shall end in life. 

A heritage of life. 

Beyond this guarded gloom, 

A kingdom, not a field or cave ; 

A city, not a tomb. 
20* 



\ 



OLD WORDS. 

"AnXd yap ken TTjg illrjOsiag Itctj. — .^CHYLUa, 

Was this earth sunnier in the days of old ? 

Or was it but the eye that looked on it, 

That then was fresher, happier, in the youth 

And manhood of our race ? Were springs more bright 

And summers lovelier, lighted up by suns 

Long set, — suns of a younger heaven than ours ? 

Was the air purer ere the heavy breath 

Of ages had gone to poison it ? 

Did the long gleam upon the ancient Nile 

Blaze in a richer radiance to the noon, 

When History's old father gazed upon it ? 

Or was the sunshine on the hills of Greece 

Purer when Homer sang and Sappho wept : 

Or was the brow of Lebanon more fair 

With whiter snow-wreaths, when the kings of Tyre 

Builded their marble palaces beneath 

The mighty shadows of its haughty peaks ? 



OLD TTORDS. 286 

Was this eartli suntiier in the days (f oM, 
Or is the glory hovering o'er its liills, 
And wandering thro' the unfathomable stretch 
Of its old skies, of which men fondly tell, 
But the gay \nsion of a fresher eye, 
When this old race was younger, and men's steps 
Went with more buoyant freedom over earth ? 
Or was it all a dream, a dream of youth, 
When dreams are happiest ? Is it still a dream, 
Well-dreamt in these our days, when inen look out 
With sad eye on the present, as if clouds, 
Unknown in other days, had settled down 
Upon our hills to -shut out sun and stars ? 
I know not. Yet I love to wander back 
To this earth's younger days and earlier scenes, 
In which there seems to meet both age and youth, 
The blossom and the fruit, the joy of dawn, 
And the gi'ave quiet of the solemn eve. 

Was the world wiser in the days of old, 
When in this land our fathers died for truth, 
Or is the wisdom of these ancient times, 
A fable well-devised, to keep us lowly ? 
And are the v/ords and thoughts of other days, 
The martyr-words and thoughts, and above all 



236 OID WORDS. 

Tlie martyr-deeds of miglity men v/hose liair 

Grew grey before its time, whose youthful face 

Grew early pale, and o'er whose thoughtful brow 

Age drew its furrows, prematurely deep, — 

Are these old words, and thoughts, and noble deeds 

But meant for them who heard and saw them then, 

But overdated now, unsuitable 

For manhood and full age, like that to which 

We have attained in these our riper times? 

It cannot be so; truth is ever true. 

In this age or the last, and error false, 

To-day as it was yesterday. N'o age 

Can outgrow truth, or can afford to part 

With the tried wisdom of the past, with words 

That centuries have sifted, and on which 

Ages have set their seal, and hjmded down 

From venerable lips of solemn men, 

Who learned their wisdom in a graver school, 

And in an age of keener, sorer conflict 

Than we have known in this gay holiday. 

When truth and error are but things of taste, 

Changelhigs of fashion, altering year by year. 

Guard then those ancient wells, those living springs, 
Of which our fathers drank and were refreshed. 



OLD WORDS. 237 

Guard then these ancient palms beneath ^vhose shade 

Our fathers have sat down, and of whose fiuit 

They ale and went upon their way in peace. 

Part not with these old names, each one of which 

Bears in its bosom precious histories, 

The life-deeds and death-conflicts of the men 

From out whose loins we spring, the men of might 

And wisdom, who have won such victories 

Of truth for us. These venerable names 

And words preserve, as an inheritance 

For children's children to the latest age. 

Part not with these old names and words, each one 

Contains an everlasting history, — 

A great soul's history, which like a pearl 

"Within its shell lies hid. Fling not away 

The shell because unpolished and uncouth, 

Lest in so doing thou shouldst fling away 

The gem whose lustre lies unseen within. 

It is not beauty, it is truth we seek. 
And it is truth that men would fling away, 
T^ecause- its outward garb is rude and homely. 
jTet truth is beautj*, best of beauty here ; - 
And beauty is but hidden truth unfolded, 
Like blossoms from the rough brown buds of spring. 



238 OLD WORDS. 

Part not with tbese old names. See how they shina 

In these old heavens, like stars, whose rays no age 

Can dim, nor boastful art of man supplant, 

By lights, the invention of his fruitful skill. 

They lighted up the darkness of the ways 

By which our fathers walked in joy to heaven; 

Not now less needful nor loss glad their beams. 

Pait not with these old names and words, each one 

Is as a seed, the womb of hidden life ; 

And he that flings away a seed destroys 

The future harvest of a hundred fields. 

Part not with these old names, in each of them 

Our fathers wrapt up wisdom for their sons, 

And their sons' sons down to earth's latest day. 

"What thoughts are clinging round them, thick as dew 

Upon the fields of the fresh summer's grass, 

Mellow as fruit upon the autumn-trees. 

Say not, our age is wiser; if it be. 
It is the wisdom which the past has given 
That makes it so ; for in these names is written 
That wondrous wisdom that has made us wise. 



THE OLD JE\A'' ON MOUNT MORIAH. 

He stood bevviiderecl on his lonely hearth, 

Sadness was written on his fixed brow, 
For he had witnessed days of holy mirth 

"Where silence dwells and desolation now. 

The grief he felt he cared not to avow. 
Calrcily he stood, yet sorrowfully too, 

The latest leaf upon the topmost bough 
Of the green olive tliat so lately threw 
Aloft its leafy arms when the glad spring was new 

Friendless and homeless ! How unlike the past I 

Once honored scion of a noble stem ; 
But now forsaken, desolate, the last 

Bright jewel of a kingly diadem ; 

The last dim dew-drop of all those tnat gem 
The still lone valley where the sunbeams fall. 

He trod his ancient hills, but found on them 
Nouo-ht but his shivered altar-shrines, for all 
Was tomb-liko hjished, and dark as with a funeral 
pall. 



THE SHEPHERDS' PLAIN. 

'Dum servant oves invenerunt AgnumD&iy — Jeromju 

Blessed night, when first that plain 
Echoed with the joyful strain, — 
" Peace has come to earth again." 

Blessed hills, that heard the song 
Of the glorious angel-throng, 
Swelling all your slopes along. 

Happy shepherds, on whose ear 
Fell the tidings glad and dear, — ■ 
" God to man is drawinfj near.*' 

Happy shepherds, on v/hose eye 
Shone tlie glory fi'om on high, 
Of the heavenly Majesty. 



THE shepherds' PLAIN, 241 

Happy, bappy BetUehem, 
Judah's least but brightest gem, 
Where the rod from Jesse's stem. 

Scion of a princely race, 

Sprung in heaven's own perfect grace, 

Yet in feeble lowliness. 

This the woman's promised seed^ 
Abram's mighty son indeed ; 
Succorer of earth's ori-eat need. 

This the victor in our war. 
This tlie glory seen afar, 
This the liffht of Jacob's star ! 



to' 



Happy Judah, rise and own 
Him, the heir of David's throne, 
David's Lord, and David's Son. 

Babe of promise, born at last, 
After weary ages past. 
When our hopes were overcast, 
21 



242 THE SHEPHEKDS' PLAIK. 

Babe of weakness, can it be, 
That earth's last great victory 
Is to be achieved hy thee 2 

Child of meetness, can it be 
That the proud rebellious knee 
Of this world shall bend to thee S 

Child of poverty, art thou 

He to whom all heaven shall bow, 

And all earth shall pay the vow ? 

Can that feeble head alone 

Bear the weight of such a crowD, 

As belongs to David's Son ? 

Can these helpless hands of thine, 
Wield a sceptre so divine, 
As belongs to Jesse's line ? 

Heir of pain and toil, w'hom non^ 
In this evil day will own, 
Art thou the Eternal One ? 



THE SHEPHERDS PLAIN. 243 

Thou, o'er whom the sv/ord and rod 
Wave, in haste, to drink thy blood, 
Art tliou very Son of God ? 

Thus revealed to shepherds' eyes, 
Hidden from the great and wise, 
Kntering* eartli in lov/ly guise, — ' 

Entering by this narrow door, 
Laid upon this rocky floor, 
Placed in yonder manger poor. 

We adore thee as our King, 
And to thee our song we sing ; 
Our best offering to thee bring. 

Guarded by the shepherds' rod, 
'Mid their flock, thy poor abode, 
Thus we own thee. Lamb of God. 

Lamb of God, thy lowly name, 
King of kings, wo thee proclaim ; 
Heaven and earth shall hear its fame. 



244 "THE shepherds' PLAIif. 

Bearer of our sins' sad load, 
Wielder cf the iron rod, 
Judah's Lion, Lamb of God I 

Mighty King of righteousness, 
King of glory, king of peace, 
Never shall thy kingdom cease ! 

Thee, earth's heir and Lord, we own ; 
Raise again its fallen throne, 
Take its everlasting crown. 

Blessed Babe of Bethlehem, 
Owner of earth's diadem. 
Claim, and weai* the radiant gem. 

Scatter darkness with thy light, 
End the sorrows of our night, 
Speak the word, and all is bright. 

Spoil the spoiler of the earth. 
Bring creation's second birth, 
Promised day of song and mirth 



C45 



*Tis thine Israel's voice that calls, 
Build ae'ain thy Salem's walls, 
Dwell within her holy halls. 

'Tis thv Church's voice that cries, 
Rend these long unrended skies, 
Bridegroom of the Church, arise. 

Take to thee thy poAver and reign, 

Purify this earth again; 

Cleanse it from each curse and stain. 

Sun of peace, no longer stay, 

Let the shadows flee away, 

And the long night end in day. 
r 

Let the dayspring from on high^ 
That arose in Judah's sky. 
Cover eaith eternally. 

Babe of Bethlehem, to thee. 
Infant of eternity. 
Everlasting glory be ! 
21* 



COME, LORD. 

** Senuit mundus." — Augustine. 

Come, Lord, and tarry not : 
Bring the long-looked-for day, 

Oh. why these years of waiting here, 
These ages of delay ? 

Come, for thj saints still wait ; 

Daily ascends their sigh ; 
The Spirit and the Bride say, Come, 

Dost thou not hear the cry ? 

Come, for creation groans. 

Impatient of thy stay. 
Worn out with these long years of ill, 

These ages of delay. 

Come, for thy Israel pines. 

An exile from thy fold ; 
call to mind thy faithful word, 

And bless them as of old. 



COME,* LORD. 

Come, for thy foes are strong; 

With taunting lip they say, 
"Where is the promised Advent now, 

And where the dreaded day ?" 

Come, for the good are few ; 

They lift the voice in vain. 
Faith waxes fainter on the earth, 

And love is on the wane. 

Come, for the truth is weak, 

And error pours abroad 
Its subtle poison o'er the earth, — 

An earth that hates her God. 

Come, for love waxes cold, 
Its steps are faint and slow ; 

Faith now is lost in unbelief, 
Ilope's lamp burns dim and low. 

Come, for the grave is full, 

Earth's tombs no more can hold. 

The sated sepulchres rebel. 

And groans the heaving mould. 



24^ 



248 COME^ LORD. 

Come, for the corn is ripe, 

Put in thy sickle now, 
Reap the great harvest of the earth ;— 

Sower and reaper thou ! 

Come, in thy glorious might, 

Come with the iron rod, 
Scattering thy foes before thy face, 

Most mighty Son of God. 

Come, spoil the strong man*s house, 
Bind hiin and cast him hence. 

Show thyself stronger than the strong 
Thyself Omnipotence. 

Come, and make all things new, 
Build up this ruined earth, 

Restore our faded Paradise, 
Creation's second birth. 

Come, and begin thy reign 

Of everlasting peace, 
Come, take the kingdom to thyself, 

Great King of righteousness. 



THY WAY, NOT MINE. 

Thy way, not mine, O Lord, 

However dark it be ! 
Lead ine by thine own band, 

Choose out the path for me. 

Smooth let it be or rough, 

It will be still the best, 
Winding or straight, it matters not, 

It leads me to thy rest. 

, I dare not choose ray lot : 
I would not, if I might ; 
Choose thou for me, my God, 
So shall I walk aright. 

The kingdom that I seek 
Is thine : so let the way 

That leads to it be thine, 
Else I must surely stray. 



250 THY WAY, NOT MINE. 



/". 



( Take tliou my cup, and it 

With joy or sorrow fill, — - 
As best to thee may seem ; 
Choose thou my good and ill. 

Choose thou for me my friends, 
My sickness or my health, 

Choose thou my cares for me, 
My poverty or wealth. 

Not mine, not mine the choice, 
In things or great or small ; 

Be thou my guide, my strength, 
My wisdom, and my all. 



ALLELUIA. 

(from the latix.) 

Alleluia, Alleluia! 

The battle now is done, 

The victory is won ; 

Let us joy and sing 
Alleluia 1 

Alleluia, Alleluia ! 

Suffering death's cruel doom, 
Jesus hath hell overcome ; 
Let us praise and shout 

Alleluia ! 

Alleluia, Alleluia! 

He rose the third day, bright 
Li heavenly love and light ; 
Let us cry and chant 

Alleluia ! 



252 ALLELUIA. 

Alleluia, Alleluia ! 

Closed are the gates below, 
Heaven's halls are open now ; 
Let us joy and smg 

Alleluia ! 

Alleluia, Alleluia ! 

Jesus, by thy wounds, save 
Us from the endless grave, 
That we may live and sing 

Alleluia!* 

♦ I give the first stanza of the above hymn as a specimen 

Alleluia, Alleluia 1 

Finita jam sunt prajlia. 
Est parta jam victoria, 
Gaudeamus et canamus, 
Alleluia i 



LIVE. 

Make haste, man, to live, 

For thou so soon must die ; 
Time hurries past thee Hke the breeze ; 

How swift its moments fly. 

Make haste, man, to Hve ! 

To breathe, and wake, and sleep. 

To smile, to sigh, to grieve ; 
To move in idleness through earth. 

This, this is not to live ! 

Make haste, O man, to live ! 

Make haste, O man, to do 

Whatever must be done ; 
Thou hast no time to lose in sloth, 

Thy day will soon be gone. 

Make haste, O man, to live ! 
22 



254 LIVE. 

Up tlien with speed, and work ; 

Fling ease and self away ; 
This is no time for thee to sleep, 

Up, watch, and work and pray ! 

Make hasce, man, to live 

The useful, not the great. 

The thing that never dies ; 
The silent toil that is not lost, — 

Set these before thine eyes. 

Make haste, O man, to live I 

The seed, whose leaf and flower, 
Though poor in human sight, 

Brings forth at last the eternal fruit. 
Sow thou by day and night. 

^lake haste, man, to live ! 

Make haste, O man, to live, 

Thy time is almost o'er ; 
O sleep not, dream not, but arise, 

The Judge is at the door. 

Make haste, O man, to live ! 



THE MA^RTYR'S GRAVE. 

The moss is green upon tbe stone ; 

The stone lies heavy on the mould ; 
The spot is dreary, sad, and lone ; 

The forest air is cold. 

The sky above is wan and bleak ; 

The ground beneath is brown and bare ; 
No living voice intrudes to break 

The tranquil silence there. 

Another breeze among the boughs, 
And then another leafy shower 

CJomes rustling down ; the sadness grows 
More and more sad each hour. 

The shadow of the drifting cloud 
Falls chilly on these gloomy firs, 

Deepening the darkness of the wood ; 
Hardly a leaflet stirs. 



256 



Quick-twinkling through the leafy screen, 
The stray gleams go and come ; 

Half-hidden by the shade, is seen 
The old and well-known tomb. 



Here sleeps the martyr's weary head ; 

Here moulders holy dust, 
With the wild wood-moss overspread, 

Resting in silent trust. 

ISTo summer-flowers breathe sweetness here, 

It is a lone forsaken spot, 
Round he the leaves of autumn sere. 

The leaf that changes not. 

Far from man's voice of love or strife, 
'Tis fit that here his grave should be. 

In death an outcast as in life — 
Unnamed in history. 

Young hopes, young friendships, joys of earth, 
Had passed him by like summer-dreams, 

Solemn his life had been from biith, 
Like march of mountain streams. 



THE martyr's grave. 257 

Changeful his lot, like yon vexed sky, 
When moorland breezes wildly blow, 

His weary soul now rests «n high, 
His body sleeps below. 

Rest, weary dust, lie here an hour ; 

Ere long, like blossom from the sod. 
Thou shalt come forth a glorious flower, 

Fit for the eye of God. 

22* 



ALL WELL. 

No seas again shall sever; 

No desert intervene ; 
No deep and flowing river 
Shall roll its tide between. 

No bleak cliffs upward towering, 
Shall bound our eager sight ; 

No tempest darkly lowering, 
Shall wrap us in its night. 

Love, and unsevered union 
Of soul with those we love, 

Nearness and glad communion 
Shall be our joy above. 

No dread of wasting sickness, 
No thought of ache or pain, 

No fretting hours of weakness, 
Shall mar our peace again. 4 



LINKS. 259 

No death our homes o'ershading, 

Shall e'er our harps unstring, 
For all is life unfading, 

In presence of our King. 



LINKS. 



Are there not voices, strangely sweet, 
And tones of music strangely dear ; 

So lovingly the soul they greet, 
So kindly steal they on the ear. 

We know not why they strike so deep, 

We can not tell the secret spring 
Within us, which they wake from sleep. 

Nor how such thoughts their notes can bring. 

We ask not why nor how they thrill 
So keenly through the inmost soul ; 

And why, when ceased, we listen still. 
As tiiough they yet upon us stole. 



260 LINKS. 

We feel the sweetness of tlie voice ; 

We love the richness of the lone ; 
It makes us sorrowor rejoice, 

Compelling us its pov/er to own. 

Are there not words, too, stranixelv sweet. 

Thoughts, musings, memones, strangel j dear ? 

So lovingly the soul they greet, 
So gently steal they on the ear ! 

Common the words may be and weak, 
The passing stranger owns them not ; 

To other ears in vain they speak, 
Unknown, unrelishcd, or forgot. 

Rich in old thoughts, these words appear, 
Part of our being's mighty whole ; 

Linked with our life's strange story here. 
Knit to each feelino; of our soul. 

Linked with the scenes of days gone past, 
With all life's earnest hopes and fears ; 

Linked with the smiles that did not last. 
The joys and griefs of faded years. 



LINKS. 261 

Linked with old dreams once dreamt in youth, 
When dreams were gladder, truer things ; 

When each night's vision of bright truth, 
Lent to each buoyant day its wings. 

Linked with the whisper of the trees, 
When summer eves were fair and still ; 

Set to the music of the breeze, 
Or murmur of the twilight rill. 

Linked with some scene of sacred calm, 

Of holy places, holy days ; 
Linked with the prayer, the hymn, the psalm, 

The multitude's glad voice, of praise. 

Linked with the names of holy men. 

Martyr, or saint, or brother dear ; 
Some parted, ne'er to meet again, 

Some still our fellow-pilgrims here. 

Linked whh. that name of names, the name 
Of Him who bought us with his blood ; 

Who bore for us the wrath and shame. 
The Virgin's Son, the Christ of God, 



THE RESURRECTION OF THE JUST, 

Autumn Las come at last ; and nature now 
Binds up ber summer tresses and disrobes, 
That she may lay bereelf in silence down 
Upon her winter's coucli, and thereby sleep, 
Repair her worn-out energies, and draw- 
New life into her veins, that when the sun 
Flames out again, and the long-silent voice 
Of bappy birds and happier children wakes 
Spring's first glad matin song, she may arise 
Girt with new strength and with fresh beauty clothed, 
Thus comes life's autumn, and the happy spirit. 
Calmly disrobing, lays its garments down 
Upon the leaf-strewn soil of this old earth, 
Committing them, in quiet confidence 
To the safe keeping of the trusty tomb. 
Till death's brief winter shall have passed away. 
Then these old robes with which she walked the earth. 
Purged from each stain of vile mortality 
By the all-cleansing winter of the grave. 



THE PRAYER. 263 

Aud blanched to glorious whiteness by its gloom, 
Shall shine in fairer, fresher purity, 
When earth's long-promised spring at last arrives, 
And the unsetting sun smiles down in peace 
O'er a new paradise of love and joy. 



THE PRAYER, 



Fetch me the lightning from yon frowning cloud, 
With fiery force to break or melt this heart,—- 

A heart all earthly, foolish, vain, and proud ; 
In unbelief and hate that bids its God depart. 



Fetch me a beam from yon clear star of night ; 

Or yet a warmer ray from day's briglit sun, 
To kindle into heat, and glow, and light. 

This sold of gloom and death, whose day seems 
scarce begun. 



264 THE PRAYER. 

Fetcli me a drop from yon translucent lake, 
Or, farther up, from yon pure mountain well, 

These lips to cool, this feverish thirst to slake. 

This weary frame to freshen, these fierce fires to 
quell. 

O thou my God, my being's health and source, 
Better than life, brighter than noon to me, 

Stretch out thy loving hand, with gentle force. 

Bend this still-struggling will, and draw it after 
Thee. 

Return to me, my oft-forgotten God, 

My spirit's true though long-forsaken rest ; 

Undo these bars, re-enter thine abode, 

In Thee and in Tliy love alone would I be blest. 

Re-mould this inner man in every part. 

Re-knit these broken ties, resume thy sway ; 

Take, as Thy throne and altar, this poor heart ; 
Oh teach me how to love, oh help me to obey ! 



THE CITY. 

Thou art no child of the city ; 

Hadst thou known it as I have done, 
Thou wouldst not have smiled with pity. 

As if joy were with thee alone. 

With thee the unfettered ranger 
Of the forest and moorland free ; 

As if gloom and toil and danger 
Could alone in a city be. 

The smoke, the din, and the bustle 
Of the city, I know them well, 

And I know the gentle rustle 
Of the leaves in your breezy delL 

Day's huriy, and evening's riot, 
In the city I know them all ; 

I know, too, the loving quiet 

Of your glen at the day's sweet fall. 



26(1 THE CITT. 

I know too each grim old alley, 

With the blanched ray flickering through ; 
I know each sweep of your valley, 

Where the rosy light lies in dew. 

I know too the stifling sadness 

Of the summer-noon's sultry street ; 

I Ve breathed the air of your gladness 
Where the streams and the breezes meet. 

I know the dun haunts of fever. 

Where the blossoms of youth decay ; 

I know where your free broad river 
Sweeps disease on its breast away. 

Yet despite your earnest pity, 

And despite its own smoke and din, 

I cling to yon crowded city. 
Though I shrink from its woe and sin. 

For I know its boundless measure, 
Of the true, and the good, and fair ; 

Its vast and far gathered treasure. 
All the wealth of soul that is there. 



THE CITY, 267 

You may smile, or sneer, or pity, 
You may fancy it weak and strange ; 

My eye to yon smoky city, 

Still retums from its widest range. 

My heart in its inmost beatings 

Ever lingers around its homes ; 
My soul wakes up in its greetings, 

To the gleam of its spires and domes. 

You call it life's weary common, 

At the best but an idle fair, 
The market of man and woman, — 

But the choice of the race are there. 

The wonders of life and gladness, 
AJl the wonders of hope and fear ; 

The wonders of death and sadness. 
All the wonders of time are there. 

In your lone lake's still face yonder, 

By your rivulet's bursting glee, 
Deep truth I may read and ponder, 

Of the earth and its mystery. 



268 THE CITT. « 

There seems, in yon city's motioD, 
Yet a mightier truth for me ; 

'T is the sound of life's great ocean, 
'T is the tides of the human sea. 

O'er the fields of earth lie scattered, 
Noble fruitage and blossoms rare ; 

Yon city the store has gathered, 
And the garner of hearts is there. 

You may prize the lonely lustre 
Of your pearl or emerald green ; 

What is that to the gorgeous cluster 
On the brow of the crowned Queen ? 

- And the home to which I 'm hasting, 
"• Is not in some silent glen ; 

The place where ray hopes are resting, 
Is a city of living men. 

The crowds are there ; but the sadness 
Is fled, with the toil and pain ; 

Nought is heard but the song of gladness,- 
T is the city of holy men. 



THE CITY. ?69 

And wilt thou my sad fate pity, 
Wilt thou grieve o'er my heavy doom 

When within that resplendent cit^ 
1 shall find my glorious home ? 



THB EVD. 



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